Broken Souls
by Mrs.JohnReese
Summary: When a young woman leaves her shattered home for a career in the military, she encounters more than she ever dreamed; and learns a lot about the secrets that have been kept from her in the process. How will John Reese come into play? Read to find out more ;)
1. Misguided Choice

Stupid. Pathetic. Poorly planned. These words; and more rushed through my head as I prepared to board the plane that would take me to Iraq. Why in the hell had I decided to join the military? I wasn't one for heroics. Hell, before boot camp, I had barely been able to hold my own in a hand to hand fight; much less aim a gun properly, or deal with a flying aircraft. But now, I could hold my own. _Now_, I could stand for myself in a fight. And here I was, ready to leave my family behind. Ready to throw myself, head first, into a war zone. And I still didn't know _why_.

Maybe it was because my best friend since kindergarten had just committed suicide right after our high school graduation; upon learning that her boyfriend had cheated on her. Or maybe it was because my Uncle Harry had laid his hands on me for what seemed like the millionth time since I had entered senior year. Maybe it was because I had no hope left within me to face the small town of Puyallup, Washington; with its perfect little homes…its perfect little people. The life I had once loved so much had quickly turned into a hell on earth. And I wasn't sure I could deal with it anymore.

I hadn't wanted to break my mother's heart. I hadn't wanted to leave everything that I still loved behind me as though it had never existed. But after feeling the weight of the entire town's disapproval hanging over me for not coming clean about my friend's spiral into depression…after feeling their combined disdain for what I could have done, but hadn't, to save such a beautiful soul…

I couldn't bear to stay there anymore.

I had left home early in the morning; before anyone else had woken up. Despite how eager I was to leave this place; there was also a small part of me that didn't want to say goodbye. I didn't think I could bear to see my mother's face as she realized that this may very well be the last time she saw me alive. And I didn't want to show her, through my always too-expressive eyes, that a part of me didn't care if I made it back. Besides her, and my cousin Ryan; what was there to come back to? More judgment? More abuse at the hands of my uncle? Neither of those were things I wanted to face ever again.

I wasn't sure I would come back to this small town; even if I did survive the war. And, if everything I heard so far about the situation in the East was true; survival was indeed a big "if."

Shaking myself into the present as I heard the intercom blaring that it was time to board the aircraft; I grabbed my small duffel, looking around the tiny airport terminal one last time before turning my back on everything that was familiar…everything that I had ever known…

I took one final look at the last part of my hometown that I would be seeing for a while. And then I turned my back, taking a deep breath as I prepared to embark on a journey that would change my life in more ways than I could have ever imagined.

…..

"Mornin' spit-fire…whatcha makin' us today?" Lieutenant Don Mallory called out to me as he approached from his tent; running a large hand over his buzz cut and throwing me a smile that would have blinded anyone within a six mile radius. I grinned back at him then, shrugging my shoulders a bit as I replied:

"Whatever it is they give us in these rations, I guess. But for you, I can whip up a special batch of poison."

"I'd love that, smart-ass" He said, leaning over towards me conspiratorially as he continued in a hushed tone "Anything's better than that slop Dzubinski made us eat last night, eh?"

Laughing, I nudged him in the ribs, shaking my head as I watched him walk off to find some water while I continued trying to make breakfast somewhat more presentable. What we had to eat from day to day wasn't much…and sometimes it was far from savory…but we were alive. Each meal meant we had lived through another battle. Another attack on our encampment. And for that, we were grateful. We had been in the dessert for just under a year now; and so far, not one of us had been killed or severely injured. Privately, away from the ears and eyes of our commanding officer of course; we liked to joke that we had been sent to the "safe" part of the country. But despite our own relatively easy dealings with the enemy; we were never anything less than sobered each time we heard news of other units that had not been so fortunate.

We all knew that we were potentially living on borrowed time. We knew our streak of luck might run out very soon. But we kept up hope, nevertheless; using our tight-knit camaraderie as our strength whenever the occasional kernel of good news was few and far between. During the time I spent with the men and women in my unit; I had come to think of them as family…and they _were_ like a family, to me. A much better, larger family than what I had come from back in the States. And our solid bond had pulled _all _of us through more encounters than I could count. We all had our little quirks, of course…quirks that, more often than not, earned us a nickname to fit them. But we were, above all, a well-oiled machine. And our C.O. never failed to give proud dissertations on our progress back to his boss in D.C whenever he could.

As I continued stirring the imitation-oatmeal in the pot below me; I couldn't help but smile as I thought of how everything had changed since leaving home. Of how I was almost…happy…despite the irony of that happiness given my current situation. I finally had a place to belong. I was among people who had been motivated to fight for their country under various different reasons…among people who had lived through hell themselves; and had managed to come out unscathed. And I knew, now, that I could do the same.

Just as I was about to dish out the first bowl-full of the oatmeal I had prepared, however, a loud blast echoed from somewhere nearby; throwing myself, the oatmeal, and whoever stood nearby into the air as dust and heat flew our way. My body collided with the ground shortly thereafter, and I rolled a few times along the sand before coming to rest with my back thudding against the tire of a Humvee. Blinking and shaking my head a few times in an attempt to clear my mind; I made the first attempt to haul myself up into a seated position, only to fall back with a cry of pain as fire tore through my abdomen. Looking down, I saw blood beginning to coat the outside of my tank top…I saw little tears in the fabric…

Shrapnel.

Wincing as another stab of pain tore through me; I turned my head sharply in response to a noise to the left of where I was sprawled on the ground. My ears were ringing…my vision swam slightly as I tried to focus on my surroundings…and soon enough, my eyes settled on the body of a fellow soldier; his moans loud enough that even through the ringing, I could make it them out clearly.

"Don" I said, the sound that came from my mouth more of a whimper than an actual word as I attempted to crawl over towards him. His body was pinned beneath some unidentifiable piece of metal…I could only see the top half. And that half was covered in blood.

"Don" I repeated, finally closing the distance between us and grabbing his hand as he groped blindly towards me. "Don, you hold on for me, okay?"

"Na…Natalya" He whispered as he blinked at me, his eyes drifting in and out of focus as I looked up at our surroundings, trying to determine if anyone else were around. I could see nothing but drifting smoke; and wreckage. Wreckage of our encampment…wreckage of what we had once thought to be a safe haven.

Turning back to face Don, I winced a bit as the movement caused me to brush my arm against my stomach. Looking down at him, I opened my mouth to speak…to say anything that might be encouraging. But before I could get the words out, a sharp crack echoed from behind me as the butt of a gun collided with the back of my head. I was out in seconds, a small yelp escaping my mouth as my world turned black.

When I woke up…when consciousness returned…I would have a whole new fight on my hands.

…..

**Okay, so like I said before; those of you who read one of my previous stories (A new way to get your revenge) may recognize bits and pieces of this prologue. I decided to revamp the old version of this little guy as well; because I wanted to give Natalya a bit more background, so that you can hopefully get a better idea of where she comes from and why she makes the choices she does. **

**Don't worry…I'll eventually navigate her towards NYC, just like I did before. And elements of the story that was previously on here will still be intact. But please please please, just like with Second Chance for Living; let me know what you think! I'd like to dream that these "revamps" are better than the original…but I'd hate to keep working on something you all hated!**

**I look forward to hearing your thoughts! And again…thank you for your patience with me!**

**~MJR~**


	2. Rescued by an Enemy

_(Two days later…)_

….

I heard voices. Hushed, male voices; speaking in some sort of language I couldn't recognize from somewhere up above my head. My foggy mind vaguely registered several loud pops sounding from somewhere nearby, in addition to the low drone of chatter; and I made the attempt to force my heavy eyes open, only to be blinded by a light so intense, it brought tears to my eyes. Groaning a little, I turned my head so that my cheek brushed against the rough surface of whatever it was I was resting on; wincing as the act elicited loud shouts from those around me. Before I could make another move, rough hands were on my skin; grabbing me…holding me down. A small moan was ripped from my throat then as someone, or something collided roughly with my stomach; another shout from someone to my left causing me to twitch slightly as I struggled to figure out what was happening.

What could have been seconds, or hours later, given the hazy state of my mind; I felt a sharp pain in my left forearm, and I cried out again as I belatedly realized that a needle was being shoved into my skin. Squirming as best I could to get away from whoever it was that was stabbing me; I found myself forced to halt all movement as a rather large hand closed itself around my throat, cutting off my airflow almost completely as it spoke.

"Move, and you are dead; American" A deep, thickly accented voice said menacingly from above me. "We do not tolerate those who try to escape their justice."

Forcing my eyes to open, I looked up into the bearded face of the man that would become my worst nightmare. I looked at his face…I saw the utter hatred in his eyes as he gazed back down at me…and, for the first time since leaving home to fight in this forsaken land; I felt fear. Fear that I wouldn't make it home…and fear that I actually had begun to care.

"You will tell us what you know; little wench" The man continued then, releasing his hold on my throat, only to push down on a syringe that was sticking from my arm, causing fire to spread through my veins as he finished "You will give us everything we want. And once you have betrayed your country fully…then we will kill you."

….

Seventeen days. Seventeen days I remained in captivity. Seventeen days, I feared for my life; as my captors became less and less tolerant of my silence. Less tolerant of my defiance. They wanted information…information that I couldn't give. Information that I honestly didn't have. Not that that mattered. All of us knew I would never have given them anything useful, anyway.

Despite what I did, and didn't know, each day that I didn't give them what they wanted, another staple would be removed from the poorly pieced together shrapnel wound in my stomach. Another punch would be aimed at my face, neck, or chest. With all of the beatings, and the repeated aggravation to my wound; my tank top and pants soon became so filthy and tattered between the blood and the dirt and sand, that I may as well have been topless. A fact that the ringleader of the little group of vigilantes that held me captive loved to tease me with. He was the only one out of all of them that spoke any English; despite the fact that it was broken, and he seemed to get quite a thrill out of threatening me with complete exposure to his men once my shirt became threadbare.

At this point, I didn't really care. I didn't care what they did to me…what they thought of me.

I was so far beyond feeling any pain…any humiliation…_anything_…that they could have stripped me down for all to see, and I wouldn't even blink. I knew I should care. I wanted to. But over two weeks of knowing that I had been the only one they spared from my unit…that they figured I'd be the weakest…the easiest to break…knowing that the rumor was out there that no one had survived the attack on our encampment…this knowledge made it increasingly more difficult to give a damn about anything. The only thing that mattered now was making sure that these people didn't get any information that I _did _have out of me before I died. Because, I was fairly certain that I _would_ die. The care they gave me in terms of food and water was minimal at best; and as far as treating my wound, that was virtually non-existent. Every once in a while; they would have someone come in from the nearest village to wash it…to lather it with some sort of very thick paste. But that was a rarity, and the very brief glimpses I had of my abdomen when I was permitted to have my hands released from their bonds indicated that it was already infected; despite the minimal treatment it had received.

Over the seemingly unending days I was held prisoner, I could feel a fever creeping up from the growing infection in my stomach. I could feel progressive weakness running through my body. My wound was in need of proper care…I needed decent sleep…food…I was running out of time. And because of a lie that these men had propagated for all of my fellow servicemen to hear; no one was coming to save me. I was alone. I was stuck in hell at the very edge of the world; with everyone that would have cared about my predicament already gone. My unit…my _family…_was dead. And I knew that, soon, I would follow.

When I really spent the time thinking about this…when I wasn't too busy trying to make sure my pain was tamped down, so that I wouldn't make a sound to alert my captors that I was awake; I wanted to cry. I wanted to curl into a tiny ball, and unleash all of my anger…my sadness, upon the world that I felt had abandoned me. But I knew that wouldn't do me any good. It wouldn't change my situation. Crying wouldn't save me. And so I waited. I waited for death…some days, I waited for a miracle.

Either way, I never expected what would actually end up coming for me. Never in a million years.

…

On the last night of my captivity, I found myself lying, half-awake, against the cool granite wall of the room that had been my home…my hell…for the last two and a half weeks. On this particular night, my interrogators had resorted to questioning me only in Arabic; which of course, I didn't understand. As a reward for my ongoing silence, I earned several kicks to the abdomen and legs; a fact that only worsened my agony as I felt every fiber of my body as though it were on fire. I tried to cry out…to give evidence of my pain…but my voice wouldn't work. My throat was parched from lack of water, and cracked from a recent sandstorm; during which I had been given no means of covering my face or protecting my airways. And now, I felt as though my nose and throat were tearing apart. I couldn't take much more…I knew that for a fact. So I found what little source of comfort I could in the sparse, dark, and dusty room…namely, the feel of the cool stone against my burning forehead.

As I rested against the wall, I shifted in and out of consciousness; occasionally struggling against my bonds that were holding my hands tightly behind my back. I couldn't feel my fingers anymore…and I heaved a big sigh as I gave up my efforts to regain sensation; slumping against the wall again as I battled yet another stab of pain that wound its way up my sore and bruised legs to my stomach and chest. Despite the fact that I obviously still felt it, I was getting better at pushing the pain aside. Which either meant I was pretty strong…or I had detached so much by this point that registering what was happening to me was impossible. All I knew was that I had spent the last few days in a haze; not knowing, for the most part, the time of day, or when my last interaction with my captors had occurred.

And, for some reason, I liked it that way.

Just as my eyes had shut once again, however, a series of shouts, followed by a strange hissing noise came to me from the room next to mine; jarring me awake as I attempted to discern what was happening. Gunshots soon followed the hissing, and more shouts rang out from my captors as I tried to scoot myself as far back from the door as possible. I had no ability to comprehend what the noises meant in that moment…I had no idea that I was about to be saved. I could only see the noises as an indication of yet another threat to my well-being; and despite the fact that I was, in all likelihood, at death's door already, I still had to respond to my ingrained instinct for self-preservation.

Soon after the din had died down, I was able to discern that the voices I heard now were speaking in English…but that fact still didn't make it through my daze and paranoia to have a calming effect; and I flattened myself against the wall as best I could as I heard them moving closer to my door. As I continued fighting to remain conscious, two men burst into the room; the first of them immediately rushing over to me, as his partner and another man who had just entered the room cleared the perimeter. The man must have seen something akin to horror in my eyes, because his hand was soon squeezing my shoulder gently, as he spoke.

"It's okay. It's okay, soldier. We're gonna take you home."

I blinked a couple times; attempting to steady my hazy vision as I looked at the man who had his hand on me. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to shove him away; but I couldn't. I was too weak. And it made no sense; this desire to get as far from this man as humanly possible. Why was I so frightened of him? It was clear he was American…that he was here to help. So what had me pressing myself even further back against the wall in an effort to get away as he fixed me with a pitying look? Before I could waste any more time pondering this, however, the balding man before me was turning away to shout at his partner.

"Get over here and help me with her" He ordered, before turning back to me and holding out a hand as he leaned in closer to my body and continued "I'm going to help you up, now."

I flinched then, weakly shoving his hand away as he made to loop his arm underneath my armpit to hoist me up. I saw him shake his head slightly before he made to help me up yet again; but this time I didn't have the strength to fight back even a little bit. I could only watch helplessly as he and his partner pulled me slowly into a standing position; blinking back tears as pain tore through my abdomen at the movement. As I reluctantly allowed them to begin half-carrying me out of the room I was in, I couldn't help but feel that there was still something that seemed…off…about this entire encounter. Something I didn't quite trust. How on earth had they found me? No one even knew that I was still alive…or, at least, that's what my captors had led me to believe. They had let me think I was alone…but now, the evidence pointed to the contrary.

Despite my doubts, however…despite the fact that my injuries were screaming for me to just lie down and rest…I followed the men; almost eagerly, as they moved along through the house I had been stowed away in, towards the darkened streets outside. Anywhere that they would take me had to be better than where I had been the past two weeks; right?

Steeling myself for the act of navigating our way out of the tiny home; I halted momentarily, determined that if I were to let these men get me out of here, I at least deserved their names. Locking eyes with the balding man who held most of my weight as he turned to assess why I had stopped so suddenly; I fixed him with as determined a stare as I could manage as I said in a shaky, hoarse voice:

"Who…who are you?"

"We're CIA, sweetheart" He replied, lightly tugging me forward so that I caught up with him as he continued "It's time to take you home."

…

**Woohoo another chapter! I'd like to thank both SassyJ, and areyoufreakingserious for their reviews! And thanks to anyone who favorited and alerted this story! You guys make me smile! **

**So I have no logical explanation for why I'm making this revision of my story so dark and angsty…blame the plot bunnies? LOL. At any rate, though, please feel free to tell me what you think about it! Like it? Don't like it? Suggestions? I'm open for it all!**

**Until the next chapter…thanks for reading!**

**~MJR~**


	3. Falling too Deep

**Alrighty then, here we have a new chapter! I'd like to apologize for the horrid delay in posting this. Right about the time when I was ready to go off and write my new ideas, school decided to smack me upside the face with midterms. **

**But here she is! The next installment in Natalya's tale! As I'm sure those of you who have read the original will guess, this is bringing her closer to the main point of the story. As such, I'd really love to know if you like the new take I'm adding in here. Be warned, I did do a smut scene in this chapter, so if that's not your thing, do stop reading after the line "And you're going to help me track him." **

**Otherwise, I'd also appreciate your insight on said smut. It's my first time doing it in first person so I'd love to know if it's alright, or could stand some work. Honesty is the best policy, after all, and it helps us improve!**

**In other words, please feel free to tell me anything you liked…hated…were unsure of…in this chapter! I'm open for any and all feedback! And I'd like to give a huge thank you to my reviewers areyoufreakingserious, and DanAlaya! I appreciate your continued support! And a monster sized thank you with sugar on top to Maddsgirl75 for going over the smut part and making sure there weren't any kinks. (uh…kinks…oh nevermind…*blush*)**

**And now, I shall cease rambling (cue clapping) and leave you to read on! Enjoy!**

**~MJR~**

…

_(roughly one week later)….._

Air rushed through my lungs with a noticeable hiss as I abruptly became aware of my surroundings. At first, it was difficult for me to discern the location of my body in relation to something…anything, really. I was so disoriented, that I found myself cringing against the overwhelming sensations pelting me from all sides, as I finally came to the conclusion that I was in a bed…I could feel IV tubes extending out from my arm…and there was a foggy haze of pain that was just out of reach. It surrounded me, making me feel absolutely exhausted; although it did not quite drag me down completely into nothingness with its potency. I recognized that the fire I had felt in every cell of my body while in captivity had abated slightly…and my eyes opened for the first time since I had been rescued; taking in the blindingly bright lights of the hospital room with incredulity. For a brief moment, I was brought back to the first moment of consciousness I experienced after coming out of my splenectomy; a necessity brought about when I decided to not look both ways before dashing out into the street to chase an errant ball thrown by my cousin, Ryan.

That time, when I came out of the anesthesia, my mother was grasping my hand as though it was her lifeline. After my eyes had opened…after I had turned so that I could see her face…she had rushed out of her chair to give me a hug; squeezing me gently as I felt the tears splash down onto my face as they fell unchecked from her eyes. That time, I felt that I had something to hold onto after such an unexpected trauma. I knew there were people around who would take care of me…who would get me back on my feet.

But this time…I had no idea what to expect…what to cling to. A part of me was cognoscente enough to recognize that I was not at the hospital in my home town…I was not surrounded by family. But I had little else to go off of in terms of determining what that meant for me. Where was I? Who was I with? I had no inkling about what had happened during my time out of consciousness…all I knew, now, was that a hand was clasping mine very tightly. A man's hand…I could tell that, just by the rough texture of its skin against my own.

Moaning a little, I attempted to shift my hand so that it was free as I simultaneously moved in an effort to see who it was that was with me. The attempt brought a sharp stab of pain from the general area of my stomach; causing me to wince as I registered a deep chuckle before a smooth male voice spoke to me.

"Well there you are…was wondering when you were going to come out to play; sunshine."

"Where…the hell…am I?" I ground out; my brow furrowing a bit at the foreign, gravelly quality my voice had as my eyes searched for, and connected with the source of the voice. Sitting beside me was a middle-aged, balding man; dressed in a light grey suit. As my eyes drifted slowly from his well-kept exterior, to his face; taking in how he had fixed me with a look that bordered on ravenous curiosity, I found myself flinching backwards unconsciously as he reached out to slide his hand up my arm as he spoke.

"Relax, sweetheart. You're safe now."

Clearly he was intending to use his body language…his voice…in an attempt to soothe me. He wanted me to feel like I was going to be alright. And, by God, I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that I was safe…that I was out of harm's way.

But I couldn't. Not when I still heard the blast of the explosive that had torn apart my friends like it was just moments after the event. Not when I still felt every poke…every prod…that my captors had inflicted upon me as though they were still in the same room.

Despite how much I wanted to see this man as an ally…as a friend…I couldn't stop myself from continuing to cringe away from him; my entire mind intent on getting as far away from this perceived enemy as possible.

"Okay…relax, honey. I'm not gonna touch you" He said softly, holding both hands up in front of himself as he eased back into the chair. I sensed that he could see the anxiety that must have been so clearly etched across my face; and I situated myself so that I could watch him closely without putting any further stress on my sore stomach. I must have looked like a trapped animal in that moment; because I clearly saw a look that bordered on pity flit across his features as he adjusted his suit jacket before speaking again.

"How about we start with each other's names?" He asked me, a hint of a smile curling his lip upward as he continued "I'm Mark. Mark Snow."

"Natalya Gerard" I replied, my voice still slightly husky as I swallowed once before continuing "But I'm sure you…knew that already."

Mark smiled at me, white teeth flashing in the light of the hospital room as he said "Yes…yes I did. Very perceptive of you."

"I might be out of it right now, Agent Snow…but I'm not stupid" I replied, letting out a small laugh of my own at his answering smirk; before realizing the error of my ways and wincing as a new stab of pain tore its way through my abdomen. Placing a hand over the area reflexively, I closed my eyes; fighting through the pain, and nearly jumping out of my skin as I felt a warm hand…Mark's…covering my own. Opening my eyes and flicking my gaze over to meet his; I found myself holding my breath anxiously as he said:

"You're exactly right, Natalya; you're not stupid. Which is why I think you're the perfect candidate for what I'm about to offer you."

As he spoke, he pulled a manila folder out from behind him on the chair; opening it and setting it on the bed in my lap before settling back and watching as I eyed the object curiously. Reaching out a shaking hand, I picked the folder up and brought it even closer; furrowing my eyebrows in confusion as I noticed the picture of the stern-faced man staring back at me.

"I'm sorry…offer?" I said, fighting equal parts of intrigue and apprehension as I awaited Mark's reply. What on earth did he mean by "offer?" What did he possibly think I could do for him? And who was the man whose picture was now in front of me? I didn't have too long to ponder these questions, however…soon, Mark was edging closer to my bed; leaning forward towards me as he replied:

"The man you're looking at is a wanted fugitive. And you're going to help me track him."

….

Six months had passed since Mark and his fellow Agent, Evans had checked me out of the hospital…six months during which I had chased a man around the world; trying my best to assist Mark in bringing the vigilante to justice. From what I could tell, the man had quite the track record…he had been a stellar agent in the field; that much was obvious from the dossier Mark had given me after I had agreed to help him. He was former military, just like I was…and honestly, there was nothing that would have triggered my attention to him being anything less than a model citizen. Nothing, that was, until I looked deeper into the file detailing his last mission for the Agency before going rogue.

Everything about that mission had gone according to plan; until the night that the man and his partner had been preparing to return home. That night, something in this man…_John Reese_…had finally snapped; causing him to murder the woman sent in with him in cold blood. Mark couldn't explain it…and the only reason I could think of; namely that Reese had become tired of always following orders, and wanted to live a life that was his own, didn't hold much water, either.

Regardless of the vigilante's reasons, though; it had become abundantly clear that we needed to track him down quickly if we wanted to avoid seeing others come to harm. His actions since leaving the Agency made that fact crucial. And so it was that I found myself spending the last few nights trying to glean information on the man's whereabouts from New York City hookers. Mark was going off of the theory that even a man such as Reese would have basic needs…but so far, despite the logic behind the idea, all of my efforts had come up empty. The man was damn near impossible to find. And I found myself beginning to fear that we would never get a grasp on him…that all of our efforts in that direction had been in vain.

Fighting discouragement as I returned to the tiny apartment we were using as a home base, I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter; slipping out of my jacket as I moved further into the room, and breathing a sigh of relief at the fact that I could finally get out of these ridiculous clothes and back into something more comfortable. Dressing in skin tight skirts and halter tops wasn't exactly my thing...but I supposed that if one of us had to infiltrate a commune of hookers to find out more intell on Reese; I would probably end up looking better in the skirts than Mark or Evans. As I continued moving into the living area; I kicked off the stilettos that Mark seemed to like so much; looking around the room curiously as I noticed its sole occupant.

"Where did Evans go?" I asked, moving over to the table by the window; plucking a glass for myself and pouring some water from the decanter before turning back to face Mark as I awaited his reply. Something in the way he was looking at me had me almost choking on the water; and I hastily set the glass down beside me as he spoke.

"I gave him the night off" He said, standing up and loosening his tie a bit as he walked over to me. As he approached, I was forced to stand there, motionless; trying my best to keep my heart from pounding out of my chest as he closed the distance between us, reaching up to place his hand on the wall beside my head as he finished "We have something we need to discuss."

Swallowing silently and unconsciously raising a hand to shove a strand of hair that had fallen out of my updo away from my face; I tilted my head up just a bit so that I could see his expression as I hesitantly replied:

"What...what's that?"

Mark quirked his head to the side then, a smirk flitting across his features as he brought up a hand to trail across my cheekbone before he responded

"This."

Before I could even formulate a reply, his lips were on mine; the hand that had been caressing my cheek moving down to loop around the back of my neck as his tongue pressed insistently against the seal of my mouth. The gasp of shock that tore from me then allowed him to gain access to what he wanted; and I couldn't help but let out a tiny whimper as his tongue tangled greedily with my own.

A half-hearted attempt at bringing up my hands to shove him away from me quickly turned fruitless; the sensation created by his hand trailing from my neck down to the small of my back to pull me closer to him rendering me senseless and causing me to push my chest into his as I went from trying to gain distance between us, to trying to meld our bodies together in any way possible. I would be telling a lie if I said I hadn't thought about this moment...about what might happen if Mark picked up on my seemingly obvious interest in him; and actually returned even a fraction of that interest. But now that the silly little fantasy I had entertained was actually coming true...

I was at a complete loss for what to do.

I broke away from him for a moment then, the rational part of my brain screaming at me to take a moment to actually _think_ about what I was doing as I moved my hand up to place it flat against his chest while I struggled to catch my breath. Mark must have seen the apprehension in my eyes easily, much to my dismay; and before I could even begin to consider formulating a coherent statement, he had dropped his hand from my waist, taking a step backwards as he said:

"Don't tell me you haven't dreamed about this. Because _I _have...I've wanted this from the moment we pulled you out of that hell overseas."

He must have seen my eyes fly open even wider as I stood there, shock at his disclosure evident on my features as he watched me. Another smirk toyed with the corners of his mouth, and he shrugged his shoulders once as he continued:

"I could tell that you had a fire...a certain ferocity...even then" He said, his eyes drilling into my own as he returned to me; pushing me so that my back was flush against the wall once again "And I _want_ that fire, Natalya."

As his hand moved up to latch around my neck once again, I unconsciously darted my tongue out to run it across my lower lip; dragging my teeth over where my tongue had just been as I watched Mark's eyes grow darker by the minute. My God, was I nervous...and I really had no reason to be. It wasn't as though I had never been with a man before...although, some might not choose to count drunk uncles assaulting you at holiday parties as "being with someone."

Either way though, I was no virgin...but the prospect of sharing my body with someone who was interested in me, personally; as compared to someone who was only using me to vent his frustrations at the world and his wife...that was an entirely new concept.

"Your choice, Natalya" Mark said then, shattering my internal debate and bringing me back to reality with a jolt as he began feathering his thumb across the spot on my neck where my pulse was racing "But keep in mind...I _always_ get what I want eventually."

A small huff of panicked laughter escaped as I took in how he still had me boxed in between his body and the solid mass of the wall...I knew that I was teetering on the edge of getting in way over my head...and a small part of me knew I should back out now, while I still could. But I had spent way too much time alone...I had kept myself closed off from the majority of the world for as long as I could remember.

And, as wrong as it probably was...as much as it could possibly backfire in my face...

I _wanted_ this.

"Hell, why not?" I whispered, leaning up on tiptoe to resume our kiss; fighting back a smirk of satisfaction as I heard Mark let out a low groan before snaking his arms around my waist as his tongue once again sought entrance to my mouth. I didn't offer nearly as much resistance this time; opening up to him with a soft whimper as my arms wound around his neck and pulled him as close to my body as I could manage.

His hands were everywhere...on my back, slipping around my waist to knead at my hips...the relative skimpiness of my top allowing his roaming hands easy access to the skin of my torso. Soon, he was breaking away from my mouth; laughing at the cry of protest that the act tore from me before beginning to rain kisses down my neck until he reached the top hem of my shirt. It didn't take long for my breath to start coming in ragged gasps as I lightly scraped my fingernails through the hair at the back of his head; and it was all I could do not to fall apart completely as his hands gripped the backs of my knees and hoisted me up so that I was forced to hook my legs around his waist.

My back thumped against the wall again as he adjusted his stance, nearly knocking the wind out of me as I attempted to remember to breathe; the effect of his lips on my skin rendering my mind in a total haze. I couldn't think...I could barely sense where Mark ended and I began. I could feel myself rapidly losing control...and I didn't even care.

I felt him push himself even closer to me then; the evidence of how much he wanted this brushing against my thigh and causing me to gasp. Biting back a small smirk, I rolled my hips forward experimentally; laughing as the act caused him to let out a low growl as he reached up with one hand and pinned my wrists to the wall above my head. Using the advantage presented to him by my hands being otherwise occupied, he leaned down to bite at the junction of my neck and shoulder; smirking against my skin as I rolled my hips forward again, the friction causing both of us to suck in a hiss of air as we broke apart and stared at each other for a moment.

"Bed?" He asked, his eyes glinting in the fading evening light filling the room as he rested his forehead against mine; slowly allowing my hands to come back down to my sides, but never allowing me to relinquish the tight grip I had around his hips while he preemptively began walking us toward the bedroom.

"God, yes" I answered, my voice coming out in a gasp as I felt the hand that had been pinning my wrists drift up to begin toying with the straps on the back of my top. I found myself laughing as Mark accidentally bumped us into the door frame in his eagerness to get to the bedroom; but he quickly retaliated, latching onto my lower lip with his teeth as he kicked the door shut behind him with a snap. Breaking contact with my mouth once we were near the bed, he gently unhooked my legs from around his waist and waited for me to regain my footing before he said:

"Lie down on your stomach for me."

"What?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. Mark's answering smile was nothing if not elusive; and I found myself fighting a wave of apprehension as he gestured towards the bed, waiting almost impatiently for me to do as he had asked. Against my better judgment, I complied to his wish; letting out a hiss of shock as I felt him slowly cover my body with his own, moving his lips down to ghost them over the fleur-de-lis tattoo he had insisted I get on my right shoulder as his hands returned to the task of undoing my shirt. I felt the last bit of the tie that had been holding the halter in place give way then, and I sucked in a sharp breath as I felt Mark looping his hand underneath my waist to get me to roll over on my back.

"Mark, wait..." I protested, trailing off as I realized my hesitancy had fallen on deaf ears. He had already flipped me over; and I saw a barely concealed predatory grin flit across his face as he eyed me hungrily. Deciding that I wasn't about to become something akin to an exhibit for him to gawk at; I snaked out an arm, latching my fingers around the end of his tie and dragging him down to me so that I could plant a kiss directly over the top of the pulse point I could clearly see just above his collar. That was enough of a distraction for me to gain some leverage; and I barely hid my smile as I rolled over on top of him; quickly divesting him of the tie before moving on to the more daunting task of the buttons on his dress shirt.

"Getting a little hasty, are we?" He asked, looking down to watch me fiddle with the buttons of his shirt; and sitting up so that he could slide the garment off of his shoulders once I finally succeeded in freeing the last button from its hole.

"Shut up Mark" I breathed, bringing my lips down to his once again as I rolled my hips against him; a fire pulling in my lower abdomen as I desperately searched for any source of friction I could find. All traces of my previous uncertainty was gone now. I wanted this..._needed_ it. And if the weight of his erection that was pressing against me was any indication; he did too.

In an effort to torment him, I leaned forward; my chest brushing against his as I slid my tongue along the roof of his mouth. The act caused him to tighten his hold around my waist; and I let out a squeal of shock as I found myself flipped backwards onto my back, the weight of his body settling comfortably over mine.

"Don't be a tease, Natalya" He whispered, his eyes intent on mine...searching...as he slid a hand down to unclasp the button of my skirt; sliding the garment down easily as I lifted my hips up to assist him. "It's bad form."

"Oh? What are you gonna do about it?" I asked, my lips quirking up in a grin as I raised an eyebrow at him. He merely shook his head at me, a soft laugh breaking loose before he maneuvered a hand underneath my panties and trailed a finger down to my entrance; pausing for a moment as he replied:

"I'm sure I'll think of something."

My hips rolled forward into his hand then, as he slid first one, and then another finger inside me; his lips descending to the hollow at the base of my neck as I writhed beneath him.

"Jesus, Mark" I moaned, rolling my hips into his hand yet again as his thumb pressed lightly over the top of my clit. I was on fire...it felt as though my body would burst into flames at any second...all on account of this man who I had never suspected of being capable of housing feelings that would lead anywhere remotely near to this. This wasn't the cold, calculating task-master from out in the field. In the privacy of the moment, Mark Snow was a completely different person.

A person that I was rather quickly becoming addicted to.

Before I could make any attempt at retaliation, however; I felt him withdrawing his hand, eliciting a groan of protest from me as he slid both hands to my hips and began tugging at my underwear.

"Mark..." I said, darting a hand down to place it over his on my leg; halting his movement as I went on "Are...are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, Natalya" He replied, backing away from me and beginning to work at removing his own belt, pants, and boxers while I watched; my mouth going dry with nerves and anticipation as he continued. "You of all people should know that I never make a move unless I'm absolutely sure about it."

The way his voice sounded as he spoke had me shivering in anticipation. The sound was husky...completely seductive...and yet confident. Confident that I would yield to him...confident that I would _like _it. I let the sound of that voice surround me, drawing me into its spell as Mark finished undressing and leaned back down to divest me of my panties. This time, I didn't put up a fight; and I found myself letting out a sigh of relief as Mark captured my lips in another kiss, simultaneously pushing into me with a single thrust.

I arched off of the bed as he began moving within me; bringing my chest to rest flush against his. I curled my arms around him, pulling him closer while our bodies joined, receded, and joined again. The tingling pull in my center grew stronger as Mark kept a steady pace; and I broke away from our kiss to tilt my head back, giving him easy access to the skin of my neck...an opportunity he eagerly took as he began nipping and biting at any exposed bit of my skin he could find. The ragged sound of his breathing alerted me to the fact that he was close...we were _both _close…and, just to be vindictive, I clamped down around him; letting out a ragged laugh as the act caused him to lose that carefully laced control as he tumbled over the edge. I didn't have long to gloat over my accomplishment, however...as soon as he registered my laugh; Mark was moving his hand down between my legs, pinching the delicate bundle of nerves there, and catapulting me into oblivion with him.

I let out an exhausted sigh then, laughing a bit as Mark rocked against me a few more times before collapsing on top of me. After a moment's rest, he buried his face in the crook of my neck as he slowly eased away from my lower half; rolling over onto his back and letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Well that was...interesting" He said, leaning down to plant a kiss against my temple before rolling away from me and moving to rummage for his clothes. A barely concealed huff of disappointment escaped me then; and I found myself fighting back a wave of something akin to regret as I spoke up.

"You're leaving?"

"There's something I need to take care of with one of our informants before calling it a night. You stay here, though" He replied, leaning down to push a tendril of my hair behind my ear as he finished stepping into his slacks "I'll be back for more. You don't need to worry about that, sunshine."

I watched him finish getting ready to leave; alternating between fiddling with the hem of the sheet that was now partially covering my body, and chewing my fingernails in silence. No matter how much a part of me was enticed by the fact that he did intend on coming back…I was unable to help but wonder…

What on earth had I gotten myself into?

…


	4. Breaking Point

**Well hello there! My sincerest apologies for the large delay in this update! One thing sort of led to another (school, exams, work, Christmas and family gatherings…another story for another fandom…you get my drift) and prevented me from getting back to this as quickly as I wanted to. I'd like to thank Maddsgirl75 for once again allowing me to bombard her with ideas though…honestly I don't know what I'd do without her help and patience! **

**Anyway, though, after much waiting I leave you with the next chapter in Natalya's tale. Enjoy? And please don't hesitate to tell me what you think!**

**~MJR~**

…

"Your orders were to shoot him on sight, Evans; not let him get away in a moment of pity" I heard Mark yell through the closed doors of our bedroom. The sound of his raised voice pierced through my skull like a knife…clearly I hadn't slept quite enough to rid my body of the sluggish, post-drinkfest stupor that I had acquired the previous evening…and it wasn't doing me any favors having a fight develop between the two older agents outside my door. Groaning a little as I sat up, shoving a hand through my disheveled hair; I tiptoed out of bed, slinking over to where my tank top and jeans had been quickly discarded the night prior. I made a little mental note to never allow Mark to convince me that drinking that much champagne was a good idea again as I tugged at the clothes until they slid over my body; closing my eyes and taking a steadying breath before I closed the distance between myself and the bedroom door.

Mark's voice rose yet again as my hand closed around the doorknob; and I fought back a wince of pain as I opened the door slowly to avoid startling him.

"Just what were you thinking, letting him get away like that; after how long we've waited to get a hit on his location?" Mark asked; his hand clenched in a tight fist at his side. He was definitely angry…that fact was painfully obvious…and I slid to the side after shutting the door to the bedroom behind me; taking a seat on the nearest chair I could find in an effort to remain unseen as I listened to Evans' reply.

"If I took the shot, I risked hitting innocent civilians" He said, casting a pleading glance at me, as though he expected that I would step in and fight this battle for him. And I would have…if not for this particular argument regarding shooting Reese on site being the cause of a fairly nasty disagreement between Mark and I the previous evening…an argument that led to the drinking…and the sex that followed. Mark knew by now that I didn't want the rogue's blood on my hands any more than it seemed Evans did. But that didn't mean I would willingly go up against Mark again. Not when he had so openly told me about what I stood to face if I did.

If I went against him…if I even hinted at letting Reese off the hook…I would be taken care of in the same way all others that the Agency deemed to be a loose end.

"We take care of our own."

Mark's words echoed through my mind again as I slowly shook my head; earning a glare from Evans before Mark went back in for the attack.

"If they're stupid enough to get in the way, that's not our problem" He said, taking notice of my presence briefly before returning his attention back to Evans "Get out of here. Take a few hours to regroup and get your head back in the game. We meet here at five."

Evans gave him a curt nod before turning to leave; and I drew my legs up so that my arms could loop around my knees as he passed. I had a feeling that Mark's tirade wasn't over…and the old defense mechanism of curling into a ball whenever I had sensed a faint whiff of trouble in my childhood had come back in full form as I waited for Mark to pounce.

Sure enough, not long after the door clicked signifying Evans' departure, he rounded on me; his voice taking on a dangerous tone as he said:

"Did you get to him with your doubts? Your misgivings?" He asked, reaching down to grab my wrist roughly; pulling me up so that I stood beside him "He never expressed any doubts prior to last night."

"Of course not, Mark!" I exclaimed, trying and failing to wrench my wrist from his grip "Please…you're hurting me."

"Hurting you" He muttered, his eyes taking on a dark glint as he gripped my wrist even tighter "This will be nothing compared to what the Agency will do if you've meddled with their investigation."

He dropped my arm then, sparing me one last look of disgust before turning his back and heading back towards the bedroom. Getting up from the chair to follow him, I bit my lip; hesitating a bit before I took a deep breath, and said:

"Look, Mark, I know you want Reese to pay for his crimes…for going rogue like he has. I get that" I began, trying my best to keep my tone neutral "but aren't you worried about the Agency seeing your killing him as being just as bad as…as what he's done?"

Mark turned to face me then, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched me involuntarily take a step backwards. I mistook his hesitancy as finally succeeding in getting through to him…but then, he was on me in seconds, his hand going to my throat as he pushed my back against the wall…and I fought to blink back tears of shock as I was thrown back to all of the times my uncle had done something similar when I dared defy him...when I had the audacity to try and deny him what he wanted.

Shaking myself back into the present, I tried as best I could to search Mark's eyes for something…anything to latch onto…to appeal to. But I found nothing…nothing besides the cold hearted killer that was so predominant in this moment…and I brought a hand up to curl it feebly around his wrist; tugging at it weakly as I felt his grip tighten.

"The Agency gave me free reign to carry this mission out however I deemed fit, Gerard" He snarled, only slightly loosening his hold on my neck; and letting out a snort of disdain as he watched me choke for air "I answer to no one; least of all someone like you."

I found myself shoved to the floor then, my hand immediately flying to my throat as air entered my lungs in waves. Letting the tears fall freely as I watched Mark walk away from me yet again; I didn't bother to conceal them as he turned one last time and said:

"Take the night off, Gerard. And don't come back unless you're ready to do this job right."

….

There was no way of knowing how much time had passed since I left our small stronghold…and frankly, after what I had just been through, I was too numb…too shocked, to care. Of course, if I were honest with myself; I would admit that I should have expected this moment. The time when Mark would ultimately allow his domineering tendencies to overrule what I once would have classified as simply being "driven." That time was now. And still I was hesitant to acknowledge that I had, in all likelihood, outlived my usefulness to him. But perhaps more importantly…more important, even than the fact that I recognized that through my own defiance and stubbornness, I had placed my life in danger…

Was the fact that I didn't care.

All of the mistakes I had ever made…and there were quite a few…culminated, now, in the fact that I had allowed myself to, yet again, fall prey to a man who was only using me for his own personal gain. And no amount of justification could stall the feelings of stupidity that besieged me as I wandered aimlessly through the crowded nightlife of New York City. Whether passersby noticed how downtrodden…how disheveled I appeared, was irrelevant. I was acutely aware that I wasn't even a blip on their radar. And that both pleased and devastated me.

I was quite content with no one stopping to ask if I was alright…happy, even, that I was able to maneuver through the streets almost as though invisible. But that invisibility, as much of a blessing as it could be in a moment like this, was also a curse. Mark had been my last grasp at hope…at belonging somewhere. Having a purpose. And here I had gone and thrown it all away. Just like I had thrown away my family when I joined the military…how I had, albeit inadvertently, thrown away my fellow soldiers when I left the army for the position I now held with Mark.

A position that, more clearly now than ever before, had been yet another bad decision.

Rumbling thunder jolted me out of my thoughts, then; and I looked around, at once painfully aware of the fact that I had made so many twists and turns that I now stood no chance of getting back to our apartment on my own. Biting back a groan of displeasure, I ducked into a nearby bar just as the rain began pouring; skirting around the tables and chairs that stood between myself and the bar proper before taking a seat.

I had no idea what I was doing here…other than waiting out the storm, and prolonging the inevitable of returning to Mark…but despite my lack of hunger and thirst, I found myself ordering a shot of vodka from the surly bartender as my eyes fixed on the rerun of basketball playing on the television above my head. I watched the game halfheartedly for a moment before my drink arrived; and I downed it eagerly despite the raised eyebrow of the man who had delivered it to me. As the bite of the alcohol wound its way through my bloodstream, I settled back in the chair; intent on distancing myself from my thoughts as much as possible. The muffled sounds of conversation from the other patrons of the bar, coupled with the sound of rain drumming on the roof easily lulled me into a daze; and despite my best efforts to the contrary, I found my thoughts once again drifting to my current predicament as the bartender brought me another shot.

This one I kept untouched, swirling the contents of the glass in my hand absently as I sat there, thinking. How had it come this far…my situation with Mark. What had changed? Was it simply my refusal to turn into a murderer without cause? Or was there something deeper than that? Before getting so close to catching Reese, we had been what I might have classified as…content. Our relationship was simple. Easy to understand. I followed orders…and he rewarded those who were obedient. We helped each other, in a way…him giving me a chance to prove myself, and me giving him an extra set of eyes to achieve his goal.

But now…now that he was expecting me to help him kill a man without a second thought…everything had become complicated. My morals were at war with my desire to please him. To make him certain that he had plucked the right person from out of the rubble of war. Except that I had failed. I was certain now, that he regretted saving my life.

And a part of me regretted it too.

"You gonna get that?" A gruff voice asked from my right; causing me to jump as I realized I was no longer alone at the bar…and my phone was chirping insistently at my side. The owner of the voice…a rugged looking Irishman with a scar extending from his ear to his cheekbone…merely looked expectantly at me; clearly annoyed that my phone had cut into what could have been a quiet night of drinking. Glancing once at the caller I.D., I made to stand up from my stool; my gut sinking as I saw Mark's number appear.

A moment passed during which I hedged over whether or not to even answer the call…but my silly sense of duty to the man prevailed; and I abandoned my drink untouched, leaving a wad of cash beside it before making my way outside to answer the call.

"Mark?" I asked, squinting up at the sky as rain continued to fall; quickly soaking my clothes, hair, and skin as I made my way to the street corner.

"We found him" Was the reply I received, excitement all too evident in Mark's voice as he went on "Carter came through after all."

Pursing my lips, I refrained from commenting on the detective's involvement…it had been all too obvious to me in our last meeting with her that she was just as apprehensive about Mark's plans as I was…but to avoid angering him yet again, I forced my voice to remain distant as I replied.

"So what's the plan?"

"I'm swinging by the precinct to get Carter now" Mark replied, the distant sound of a revving engine confirming his statement "Just stay put and I'll come get you too."

"That's a bit of a problem, Mark" I said, looking around at my unfamiliar surroundings "Seeing as I really have no idea where I am…"

A low chuckle sounded from the other line then, and I ignored the surge of apprehension I felt as Mark responded.

"That's what GPS is for, Natalya" He replied, the smirk all too evident in his voice as he finished "I'll see you in a few."

And then his voice was gone; leaving me to duck underneath an awning as I waited. Shoving my wet hair out of my face, I made sure to keep my head down; not wanting to draw attention to myself as people around me hurried to get in out of the storm. For their part, they seemed more intent on removing themselves from the deluge than taking note of a loiterer; so by the time Mark arrived ten minutes later, tires squealing as he came to a stop in front of the corner where I stood, most of the passersby were gone, having finally achieved safety from the pouring rain.

Evans had leaned over and opened the passenger side door for me as I approached the SUV; and I got in out of the storm eagerly, catching a wary glance from Carter in the front seat before I slammed the door shut behind me, and we skidded away towards our destination. Mark tossed a towel in the backseat for me to dry my hair with then, and I spared him a glance; eager to see if he had forgiven me. What I saw in his eyes held no answer however…

All I saw was the trained killer.

….

**Thoughts? I'd love to hear them!**


	5. Impulse Followed

I would be a fool if I tried denying how hard my heart was pounding as Mark drove the SUV to the top of the parking structure. It would be a lie if I said that my hands weren't firmly planted underneath my legs in the back seat of the car as I attempted to be stealthy about the deep, steadying breaths I was taking. I knew what the end of this night looked like. We had found Reese. We…or at least, Mark…planned to kill him on sight.

As far as Carter and I…we were just along for the ride.

Several times during our journey, I caught the detective casting glances in my direction. I could tell she was watching me…Mark must have told her of my apprehension. And now she was searching my face from the front seat…looking for evidence to my feelings on what we were about to do. But for my part, I tried to keep my gaze rooted firmly on the passing scenery as we raced through the lower levels of the parking structure; giving myself a silent reprimand as my doubts continued to plague me.

Tonight, I would become a party to murder. And for what? So that I could try to make myself believe that Mark loved me?

"Natalya" Mark's voice came from the front of the SUV then, eyes locking with mine in the rearview mirror "You with us?"

Shaking myself, I managed a nod; fighting back the nausea that hit me then as I caught a flicker of motion a bit further ahead of us in the garage.

Reese.

I couldn't see his face. I couldn't really make out any distinguishing characteristics from the angle we were at currently…really, I had no guarantee that the man walking towards the car at the far end of the rooftop was our target. But somehow…inexplicably…

I knew anyway. This was it.

Mark brought the SUV to a stop with a squeal of the tires, causing the man who had been walking to stop and turn around to face us. I took one last attempt at a steadying breath as I prepared to get out of the vehicle; shutting the door behind me and slowly walking to stand by Mark's side. Casting a brief glance at Carter, I saw that she stood across from us, hand at the holster of her gun; and I sent her a faint nod of acknowledgement before returning my focus to the man we had waited so long to catch.

John Reese stood before us, at last. And my God, if he didn't look every bit a trained assassin as Mark…as Evans. His face was almost identical to the picture Mark had given me when he first explained this assignment; as though he hadn't aged a day since his disappearance. Except for one difference.

In the old Agency photo, he had appeared cold…distant. As though he couldn't care less what he had done…what he was responsible for. But here, in person; it was different. I watched his eyes scan from Carter, to Mark, and finally to me. And it was then that I saw it.

A complete lack of surprise…as though he had been waiting for this day…this reckoning. But shadowed behind that stoic mask of calm was something else. Something that I might have missed, had his eyes not remained locked with mine; as though he had just seen a ghost.

Regret. Or was it a flare of recognition?

I tilted my head to the side as I studied him, trying to figure him out. He was armed…I could see how his hand twitched in the direction of what could only be a gun hidden underneath his suit jacket. But he never made a move to actually grab it. And that spoke volumes.

Maybe he had been a cold-hearted killer. Maybe there was a monster in there somewhere. Buried beneath whatever scars, emotional and physical, he had earned throughout his life. But could I really allow myself to believe that he was still that person…that monster that Mark had painted for me; if he had already had ample opportunity to draw his weapon on us…and hadn't?

My focus was temporarily jolted as I heard Mark's voice ring out from beside me; and I found myself only barely tearing my eyes from Reese's as he spoke.

"Hello John." Mark's voice was cold…tight with eagerness. That much was clear to me, as I watched a familiar, predatory gleam come into his eyes as he awaited John's reply. Trying my best to ignore the apprehension that was settling itself in the pit of my stomach; I allowed my eyes to flit back to Reese as he shifted slightly on his feet. It was obvious that he was uneasy…that he was trying to figure out a way out of this as quickly as possible. I could read it in the way his shoulders almost automatically stiffened as he stood there…in the way his lips had drawn themselves into a thin line; signifying his apprehension. But none of that anxiety was portrayed in his reply; his voice every bit as calm as though we were simply discussing the weather as he issued his one-word reply.

"Mark."

"Glad to see you're still alive" Mark forged ahead, clearly unabashed by Reese's guarded demeanor. I felt him edge slightly closer to me then, his right arm brushing against mine and causing me to look up at him; my heart jumping into my chest as I saw the look on his face.

It was the look he always got just before throwing somebody under the bus.

"I bet you are." John's voice once again succeeded in wrenching my attention away from Mark, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm. I saw his eyes narrow as he watched Mark grab my arm; tugging me forward a bit as he addressed Reese again.

"Surprised you ended up in New York City. Thought you'd get yourself a cabin in the woods. Montana maybe."

"What do you want, Mark?" John interrupted, clearly not amused by Mark's false attempt at humor…at bridging the gap between Agent and former Agent…at making him feel comfortable. But even as he questioned Mark's purpose, his eyes never once left my face…and I couldn't deny the shiver that rolled through me as I tried to decipher that gaze.

"It's time to come home, John. Slate's been wiped clean" Mark's words caused me to jump minutely as he spoke from beside me; his hand tightening its hold on my arm, and I bit back another wave of nausea as I realized that this was it. These words signified the end of our mission…of Reese's life. I knew it…Mark knew it…and by the look in his eyes as he continued watching me; I could tell that Reese knew it too.

It was in that moment that I realized that I couldn't do this. Murder, cold-hearted and undeserved…I couldn't. No matter how much I wanted Mark to approve of my actions…no matter how I desperately desired approval from someone, _anyone_…I couldn't let that force me to do something that I knew was wrong.

I _wouldn't _do this_._

"You know that'll never happen" John replied, steely determination lacing his tone. I barely caught a glimpse of his hand moving towards his hidden gun before shots echoed out around the top of the structure; causing Mark, Carter, and myself to duck down instinctively. When I looked up once again, I saw red staining the front of Reese's shirt, down by his stomach. I registered Mark straightening, taking aim with his gun for the kill shot as Reese sprawled on the ground shooting…but not at us…at the headlights of the SUV…and I knew that I couldn't let Mark kill him. Even if it meant I jeopardized everything I had come to know throughout my relations with him…I would not allow him to kill this man before us.

Acting on pure instinct and adrenaline, I dodged to the left; knocking Mark off balance as the shot he would have fired flew to the side of where Reese's head had been only seconds before. Turning my back on the man we had been hunting, I focused all of my attention on Mark…on making sure he would not fire at Reese again; all the while silently praying that the ex-agent would have the strength and the mental clarity to run while he still could.

Before Mark could make an attempt at taking aim again, I kicked my leg out; catching him in the groin, and taking the opportunity presented by this distraction to knock the gun out of his hand with a quick slap to the inner wrist. The weapon skidded off to the side, out of reach, but I barely had time to prepare myself before he had recovered; anger setting into his expression as he realized Reese was nowhere in sight. He began advancing slowly towards me then; forcing me to take a couple steps backwards as my mind began frantically trying to figure a way out of this.

"You've made a mistake, Natalya" Mark ground out, clearly still feeling the sting from the kick I had given him "A mistake you _will_ pay for."

Backing away from him slowly, I risked a glance at where I had guessed the shots that hit Reese had come from; taking it as a good sign, albeit a dubious one, that Evans was no longer perched in his position. Where he had gone to, I had no indication, but that didn't matter much to me anymore. In my search for Mark's partner, I confirmed that Reese was indeed gone…Carter too…and that allowed me a small moment of victory before I noticed Mark reaching for the spare gun in his ankle holster.

"What will you do, Mark; kill me?" I asked, tension lacing my voice as I continued moving away from him; my hands automatically going up in front of my body…not that they would do any good in stalling a gunshot wound. A part of me knew I was stating the obvious…I had disobeyed a direct order. Of course I would pay for that, likely with my life. But that still didn't stop the instinct of self-preservation that I felt crawling up within me.

"What did you expect, Gerard?" He said nonchalantly, as though we were merely analyzing the outcome of an all too predictable sports match "You interfered with our mission…jeopardized it. And you know what happens to people the Agency deems…a loose end."

I had no reply to that statement…a fact that caused a cold smirk to etch itself onto Mark's features as he continued stalking towards me; open laughter escaping him as my back bumped into the concrete wall at the edge of the parking structure.

"Nowhere left for you to run, it seems" He said, leveling his weapon so that it aimed directly at my chest "Nice knowing you, sunshine."

I clamped my eyes shut then, bracing myself for the impact of the bullet I knew would end my life. A part of me was screaming to save myself…to get out of this. But I remained rooted to the spot, unable to move…taking a small amount of comfort in the fact that I had, at least partially, aided the man we had come to kill. I took one last shuddering breath as I waited for the shot…for the pain that would tear through my chest as the bullet connected with my body. But it never came. Before Mark even had a chance to fire, the sound of sirens and squealing tires echoed up from the lower levels of the structure.

Someone had called the police.

Mark spared me one final glance, a low snarl leaving his lips before he turned tail and ran; leaving me to stand there, stunned as he disappeared into the night. I had no idea where he would go…what he would do to avoid the rapid outflow of police cars that were now spilling onto the top floor of the parking structure.

And a few moments too late, I realized with chagrin what was happening.

Officers spilled out of their cars, some of them running over towards the spot on the ground where Reese had fallen…where his blood now stained the concrete as the only evidence to indicate that someone had been injured. Still more darted towards me as I braced myself against the wall; guns drawn, and orders of "On your knees" echoing through the air. Completely helpless to do anything else as I had just been effectively ringed in by the law enforcement of New York City, I raised my hands up obediently; slowly bending down until my knees rested against the cool pavement. The majority of the officers kept their weapons trained on me, only breaking form once to allow a rather portly officer with curly brown hair through to approach me.

"Ya know, the way they called it in, it sounded like we were going up against a hell of a lot more fire power" He said as he moved to stand in front of me, looking me up and down before plucking some cuffs out of his pants pocket. I allowed him to lower my arms behind my back; wincing as the cool metal of the cuffs slid into place around my wrists and I was hefted roughly to my feet.

"Play time's over, sweetheart" He joked, nudging me forward while keeping his hands planted firmly against my arms "You're under arrest for attempted murder."

'_Perfect.'_

…

**Here we are, another chapter! Once again I have to thank all of my lovely reviewers for continuing to give me your input! I love hearing your thoughts, so please do not hesitate to continue sharing them!**

**I had some issues with this chapter in the beginning, namely getting Natalya to be involved in the roof top scene without changing too much of the original episode. I wanted to really try and show her conflict, here…on the one hand her loyalty to Mark, compared to her realization that he was using her, and her discovery that she couldn't be a party to murder, no matter how much she strives to belong somewhere. So I'm hoping I did that part justice…and as usual, feel free to share your thoughts regarding this matter!**

**What will she do now, though, I wonder? We'll just have to wait til the next chappie to find out! *wink wink***

**Until next time…**

**~MJR~**


	6. Deep Breath Before the Plunge

"So why'd you do it, sweetheart?"

Tearing my eyes from where they had been staring outside the window of the moving police cruiser; I flashed the detective in the driver's seat a confused look, darting my tongue out to wet my lower lip before replying.

"Do what?"

The detective rolled his eyes as he returned his focus to the road; shaking his head as he spoke again.

"Why'd you attack a man…someone who our sources say you have no connection to? Why'd you shoot him, twice…and then attempt to leave him for dead?"

I paused a moment as his words sank in; taking a breath and letting it out slowly as I waited. Waited for fear…panic at what I was being accused of…to overtake me. But it never came. Instead, I felt numb. Apathetic. I knew what had happened…Mark, or _someone_ had called the police when Reese had escaped from the roof top. And I knew should be afraid. I should be scared out of my mind. I had heard what happened to female prisoners that were sent to the more secure lock-up facilities. Facilities like the one I was likely headed to for my supposed crime.

But I couldn't find it in me to care. A part of me had begun clinging to the hope that, if I _were_ imprisoned; and assuming none of my fellow inmates saw fit to end my life then and there…I would be safe. Safe from Mark. Safe from the kill-squad that he would likely be sending after me in the foreseeable future. Yes, maybe this was the better way. Take the blame for something I didn't do; but in return I would be protected from a death that I stood no chance of outrunning.

That had to be the best decision, right?

"Well? You gonna answer me, or what?" The male detective's voice was demanding; jolting me out of my thoughts as I caught a faint glaze of irritation in his eyes as they darted back to me in the rear view mirror. I sent him a glare of my own then, before returning my eyes to the passing night life of the city as we drove on towards the precinct.

"I didn't do a damn thing" I said, my voice low…defiant…as I responded to his insistent question. Of course I knew it wasn't _his_ fault that I was in this position. He hadn't forced Mark to turn against me…or rather, he hadn't forced me to go against the rules. But still…anger and sadness fought to become dominant as we pulled into the parking lot of the precinct. Anger that I had allowed myself to be put in this position…and sadness that it wasn't the first time I had done so.

"Evidence says otherwise, sweetie" He replied, the tone in his voice condescending as he put the car in park and got out to open my door "You're the only one we found at the scene…"

"Did you see my gun out? Did you see me shoot the man yourself?" I snapped, cringing as his fingers curled around my arm to pull me up so that I stood beside him. I stumbled slightly as I attempted to get my footing; and the curly-haired detective let out an amused snort before dragging me towards the doors of the precinct, his grip on my arm bruising. He didn't bother spending any time making sure I was positioned so that we could both navigate through the doors to the police headquarters…and I bit back a curse as my shoulder banged into the metal divider as we passed, instead biting my lower lip as I attempted to ignore all the prying eyes that were now riveted on me.

It was as though I was a brand new circus act on opening night…whispers forming between the officers in the main area as the detective and I maneuvered our way towards an interrogation room at the back of the building. My eyes widened as I realized that this would be the first time I would be on the other end of the questioning…and I couldn't help but swallow past the newly formed lump in my throat as the detective guided me into the room and over to a chair; sitting me down roughly before returning to close the door behind him.

"Alright, sweetheart; we can do this one of two ways" He said, walking back towards me and plunking himself down on the table beside my chair; heaving a sigh before continuing "You can tell me the whole story about what you were doin' up there on that rooftop with your mystery friend you wanted to kill…or I can just pin everything on you and ship you off to Riker's."

Narrowing my eyes up at him, I tried my best to keep up my bravado…false as it was…as I said "Weren't you just going to pin it all on me anyway, Detective?"

"Assuming you don't talk…yes" He replied, a faint smirk toying with the corners of his mouth as he hoisted himself up from the table and walked around to stand behind me; his hands coming to rest on either side of my chair by my shoulders "But maybe I'll be lenient if you just come clean now."

I could feel his breath on my neck…I sensed his fingers brushing against the back of my shoulder blades…and I leaned forward as far as I could in the chair; my chest bumping against the table as I said:

"There's nothing to come clean about. The story I would tell you…you wouldn't believe it anyway."

"You don't know that" He said, leaning down so that his face was directly next to mine as he continued "Why don't you try me?"

Shaking my head minutely, I continued staring straight ahead; trying to ignore the tremors that wanted so badly to begin wracking through my body as the events of the evening finally caught up with me. Mark had honed me. Had tried to turn me into a cold-blooded killer. And now that I had finally escaped him…albeit narrowly, and almost when it was too late…I found myself in the company of a cop that I didn't trust. The paranoia that Mark had drilled into me from the time of our first meeting was setting warning bells off in my mind at this detective's close proximity…and I found it almost impossible to maintain my aloof exterior as I waited for the man to unleash his next tactic that was intended to get me to admit to something I had not done.

Before he could say anything further, however, the door to the room opened yet again; and I was forced to bite back a gasp of shock as none other than Joss Carter stepped through, her eyes darting to me in surprise once before she settled her face into a neutral mask as she spoke.

"What have you got, Fusco?" She asked; her voice sure…confident…a stark contrast to my rapidly faltering resolve. My heart was pounding in my chest now; and I found it increasingly difficult to remain calm and keep from jumping out of my seat as Carter moved closer to me; her eyes flashing once in warning to me as she continued "Pick up another prostitute outside Times Square?"

I looked up at her then, a strange kind of understanding passing between us in the brief second that her eyes held mine. She was trying to help me. Or at least, that's what I thought I gathered before she turned her attention back to Fusco.

"Don't I wish" He retorted, removing himself from his close proximity to my back and walking around the table to take the seat opposite me "At least a hooker would be more cooperative."

"Why don't you offer me a payment then, Detective?" I chimed in, unable to resist unleashing at least a little bit of my frustration…my tension…at his expense "I might be a bit more friendly after that."

Fusco shot an exasperated look at Carter then, rolling his eyes before turning back to me and saying "This one's a regular smart ass, Carter. I don't think she plans on giving us anything any time soon."

Carter's eyes connected with mine once again as she turned away from Fusco, moving across the room to lean against the mirror as she said "Maybe you're just goin' about it the wrong way."

"Care to elaborate?" Fusco grunted, clearly displeased with being called out on how he did his job. For my part, I tried my best to hide a subtle smirk…after all, I had no idea whether Carter really _was_ here to do me any favors…so I sat back and wet my lips with my tongue again as I waited to hear her response.

"Good cop-bad cop doesn't always work, Fusco" She began, shoving herself off the wall with her back and walking over to join the other detective at the table "Sometimes you've gotta branch out and try new tricks."

"And what, you think you can do better?" He asked, arching an eyebrow as he watched her take over his former place, seated on the edge of the table.

"Why don't you step out for a bit and we'll see if I can" Carter replied, inclining her head towards the door and giving Fusco an intent look; as though willing him to leave. I caught him sending her a confused look for a moment; before he shrugged, hauling himself up from the chair opposite me as he said:

"Suit yourself."

Once he was gone, Carter moved over to flip a button next to the mirror…she was turning off the microphone? Clearly whatever she wanted to say, she didn't want others to be privy to. I noticed her demeanor change immediately after her partner had left the room…she had gone from calm and in control to quiet and subdued within a manner of seconds…and I raised an eyebrow at her in question as she took the seat opposite me and said:

"You've got to come clean, Natalya."

"And what good would that do?" I asked her, turning my head to the side as she tried to fix me with an intent gaze "You know as well as I that I've been set up by one of the best."

"What am I, chopped liver?" She quipped, flashing me a temporary smile before returning to business "I can get you out of this, but you have to trust me."

Returning my gaze to hers for a fraction of a second, I took in how genuinely concerned she appeared. How her brows had furrowed into a line as she tried to break past the walls that the very person who had landed me here had taught me to put up at the first sign of outside involvement. And I inwardly cursed myself at being unable to trust her…despite knowing the whole time we worked together that she wasn't really in this mission. Despite knowing that she had a son, and by the way she was looking at me, was probably picturing me as a wayward child in desperate need of guidance. And maybe that was true. But that didn't stop me from pulling my lips together in a thin line of determination as I spoke.

"Trust me, Carter, I'm probably better off where they're sending me" I said, flinching a little as I saw her eyes harden a bit at my defiance "Besides, if he finds out you've helped me…I can't bring that destruction on you or your family."

"Well what if I'm not about to let an innocent woman go to prison for a crime she didn't commit?" Carter interrupted, her voice low…insistent…as she leaned over the table towards me and made to grab for my hand. Her face didn't show anything as she registered me pulling away from the contact…and I found myself trying to tamp down my own haggard emotions as I fixed my eyes on one of the chinks in the wall of the interrogation room as I said:

"I'm hardly innocent, Detective. Don't throw your life away because of my poor choices."

"What about _your_ life, Natalya? What about what _you _have to live for? What you have left to do?" She argued. I had to give her credit…she certainly wasn't giving up no matter how many barriers I erected. But I shook my head slightly, fighting a satisfied smirk as I caught her sigh of resignation upon hearing my next words.

"I can't be the only lost cause you've encountered, Carter" I said softly, trying to phrase my thoughts in such a way to convey that I wasn't interested in being saved…that I was too far past all of that "Move on. It's safer…better for you, in the end."

Carter opened her mouth then, as though she was preparing to come up with yet another reason why I should let her help me out of this; but before she could act on her intent, a loud buzzing sounded from her pants pocket. Casting a glance my way, she quickly turned and drew out the cause of the commotion…her phone…bringing it up to her ear as she simultaneously motioned for me to hold on a moment. I offered her a brief nod as she stepped out of the room; before falling back into my own thoughts. Thoughts of the man I had almost killed…

Thoughts about whether or not I was _actually_ going to be safer in prison, when I knew damn well that Mark had resources beyond my imagining.

….

"_We find the defendant…guilty."_

_Of course. Just as I had expected. I couldn't say that I was surprised at the jury's verdict. After all, with the combination of a squadron of police officers who swore up and down that they saw me brandishing a gun at the victim, and Mark's riveting testimony as a 'concerned citizen who witnessed the unthinkable'; what chance did I have? It wasn't as though I could reasonably believe that the jury would think twice about my guilt; when my own personal testimony was fragmented and shoddy at best. I knew well enough to realize that there was no way I would stand a chance at persuading them that Mark…the innocent civilian…was the one behind it all._

_To make matters worse, there was no one I could call as a character witness. I flat out refused to drag my family back in Washington into this…and involving Carter when Mark was right there was out of the question. No, I was very much alone. And as the warden took hold of my elbow; hoisting me up and escorting me out of the court room I knew._

_I was alone. No one was coming to save me._

…_.._

Week two in prison was, if possible, more hellish than the first. Where originally they had placed me in solitary, I now found myself being shuffled down the main hall towards a cell…and a cell-mate. I inwardly cringed as the howls and cat-calls of the women in this block of the jail followed me towards my destination; just the same as they had followed me while on my way to my first residence. A small part of me wondered why I was making this sudden move to a more communal environment; but I had no time to ponder that, as within seconds I found myself being roughly shoved into my new home, only barely turning around to throw the guards one last look of confusion as the bars slid shut behind me.

"You two ladies play nice" The guard who had escorted me leered, throwing me a smirk before returning from the direction he came. Biting my lip, I slowly turned around then; coming face to face with my new living partner…a rough and tumble forty-something with mousy brown hair, and tattoos covering her arms and neck in a pattern that resembled ropes and thorns. Swallowing past my initial fear, I nodded in her direction; attempting a smile that turned into more of a grimace as I introduced myself.

"Nat.." I began, trailing off as a thick-fingered hand latched itself around my wrist; and I found myself being slammed up against the bars of the cell as the woman growled at me.

"I don't give a rats' ass who you are, sweetie. You keep your pretty yap shut, and do as you're told…and we'll get along fine."

I spent a moment blinking in shock as I felt her grip loosen slightly on my wrist…but instead of letting it lie…instead of just being wise, and keeping my yap shut, as I had been instructed…I snapped. I may be here because I had no other choice. And I may have been moved to a public cell to fulfill someone on the outside's greater purpose. But I'd be damned if I let yet another person violate me just because they thought they were stronger.

It wasn't going to happen. Not while I still had breath left in me.

Bringing my knee up, I rammed it into the burly woman's stomach; using the opportunity presented by her doubling over to wrench my wrist from her grasp as I used my other hand to grab her at the back of the neck and spin us around until I had her bent at the waist; her face dangerously close to the bars of our cell.

"I'll agree to keeping my yap shut on one condition" I hissed, pushing her neck further down as she struggled to stand upright "You keep your damn paws off of me; or your face gets up close and personal with these bars. Got it?"

"Fine. You gonna let me go now?" She assented, her tone holding a combination of renewed hostility and shock. Relinquishing my grip on her neck, I took a few steps back; watching her cautiously as she made her way back to her bed. I would be a liar if I said I wasn't shocked that my spur of the moment action had actually succeeded…but I wasn't going to get my hopes up. Not when I saw the smudge of what could only be leftover blood on the floor of our cell that had only become apparent after my new "friend" had stepped up into her bed. Hauling myself up into my own bunk, I rolled onto my back; a sigh escaping as I stared up at the ceiling.

It appeared that I was going to have my work cut out for me here.

…

**Well hello there! I'm terribly sorry for this delay in updating…school and my other stories kind of got in the way. But here we have a new chapter! And I have a question for YOU, the reader!**

**I have a few ideas swimming in my head for how Natalya winds up meeting Reese. But I'd love to hear YOUR thoughts/feelings on the matter. Anything in particular you'd like to see? Feel free to leave it in a review/PM.**

**Thank you so much to DanAlaya for your consistent reviewing! I'm so glad you're enjoying this! And thank you to everyone else who has read/reviewed/favorited! I hope you continue to enjoy where this is going!**

**~MJR~**


	7. Challenge Accepted

**Greetings, everyone! I am so terribly sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! Real life caught up with me (namely in terms of sickness and exams) and I kind of allowed my writing to fall by the wayside. I'm still knee-deep in work for school, but I am trying to intersperse some writing time in there as well (you know, to help with my already dwindling sanity? Haha).**

**Anyway, without much rambling, I just wanted to thank you all for being patient with me. I hope you enjoy this chapter (admittedly a bridge so that we can get to the more in depth part of the plot), and I look forward to hearing your thoughts!**

**Special thanks to DanAlaya for prompting me with lots of lovely ideas, and to Dasiygirl95 for sticking with me throughout all of the craziness that is my life! Love ya both!**

**~MJR~**

…

About a month had passed since I had been thrown into prison…a month that became increasingly more difficult to keep track of as minutes blended into hours, and hours blended into days. Prison was, if possible, even more routine-oriented than the military; a fact that both served to bring me comfort, and at the same time bored me almost instantly. The constant cycle of wake-up, eat, yard time, eat, cell time, eat, yard time, bed became a never-ending sequence of dull monotony; and I found myself settling into a kind of stupor as time wore on incessantly, only breaking out when addressed by another prisoner or guard. I had no visitors…not a shock really, given my current state of being. So it became easier to slip into myself; letting the hum-drum of the surrounding environment fade into the background as I went through the motions.

Unfortunately, this newfound free time provided more than enough opportunity for me to dwell on what, exactly, had landed me in here in the first place; and it was on yet another dreary winter morning that I found myself jolted out of my internal musings as a loud ruckus reached my ears from across the grounds. Clouds were rolling in from the west, quickly blotting out the fading morning sunlight that had been attempting to stream through the light haze; and as if in anticipation to the storm that was so clearly brewing in the atmosphere, my attention was drawn to a cluster of women crowded around something that was hidden to my gaze. They appeared to be arguing over something…that much I could clearly see by how the tallest one of the bunch was waving her arms about wildly while the others stood around, with shoulders tense. My curiosity piqued, I picked myself up from my seat on the bench in the center of the grounds, making my way over to the group just as the gesticulating woman finished speaking.

"…and clearly the bitch needs to learn a lesson."

Furrowing my eye brows, I hung back a bit so that I wouldn't draw attention to myself; listening intently as a shorter, blonde woman spoke up from within the circle.

"Guards won't switch til twenty minutes from now; and by then we'll be back inside."

"Which is why you're gonna distract them til I'm done" The taller woman interjected; nodding in the direction of the two guards surveying the grounds "Martins goes with you, and the rest'll get to help take care of business."

A laugh sounded from off to the right then, a brawny looking redhead sauntering over with a grin plastered on her face as she clapped the blonde on the shoulder. Sending a curt nod to the taller woman, who was obviously in charge; she looped an arm around her comrade's shoulders, dragging her off in the direction of the guards as the rest of the women began moving over towards a more secluded part of the grounds. A section that was only populated by one woman.

Tall, thin, and clearly in her own world, she could have no idea what was coming for her; and I found myself instinctively casting a wary glance in the direction of the other women who had made for the prison guards, before quietly following after the larger crowd towards their victim. From this distance, she didn't _look_ like she was capable of doing anything worthy of a beat-down…but then again, sometimes the most threatening personas came in the smallest packages. My time in the military had drilled that into my head before I ever set foot on foreign land.

The group in front of me soon picked up their pace on a whim; the tall woman who had given orders earlier taking the lead as they closed the distance between themselves and their intended victim, while I trailed closely behind. At the moment, I didn't have a clear plan for how to protect this woman…but I knew, somehow, that I couldn't just let her fall prey to whatever was planned for her. It was as if something in me was determined to atone for what I had done…for what I had _almost _done…to Reese. And I couldn't stop the fierce desire to protect from welling up within me; choosing to allow it to take over without hesitation as I continued following the women towards their victim.

Hanging back a bit as they drew to a halt before the woman, who couldn't have been any more than thirty by looking at her; I registered her flinching as the sound of a clearing throat brought her back to reality, fear stealing over her expression as she looked at the women before her. Her hands went up almost immediately in defense; and I could sense the panic in her voice as she spoke up hesitantly.

"Listen, I…I don't want any trouble."

"Then why'd ya step in front of us in line for chow?" The tall woman demanded, stalking towards the smaller female; the rest of her posse following suit, and ringing the woman in. From what I could glimpse of their target, she was becoming more panicked by the minute; but before she even had a chance to speak up in self-defense, the ring-leader of this little expedition was pushing on "I'd think you'd learn your lesson after the last time."

"Wha-what last time?"

"Oh, you don't remember?" The tall woman asked, her tone mocking as she cast a glance back at her comrades "I think we need to help her memory some; don't you girls?"

A resounding chorus of jeers rose up from the small crowd of women then, and it took only seconds for the leader to put her plan into action; a brief flick of her hands indicating for the two women closest behind her to grab their unsuspecting victim by the arms, forcing her to the ground as the remaining women prepared to strike. Relying purely on instinct, I chose this moment to dart forward; my arm snapping out to grab onto the collar at the back of the closest woman's neck. Yanking the fabric down, I succeeded in knocking her off balance; and somehow managing to duck in time to miss the punch that was leveled my way by her comrade as she whirled around to face her friend's unexpected attacker. Both women had recovered and were on me in a manner of seconds, forcing me to take a few steps backwards as I regained my balance, before I dodged yet another swing from the woman to my left; choosing to dive sideways at the last second so that her fist collided with her friend's face instead of my own.

The speed at which the two women were at each other's throats for the accidental hit amazed me; but I only wasted a fraction of a second rolling my eyes at the stupidity of prison-gang logic, before returning my attention to where the leader of the gang was busy harassing the woman who had supposedly offended her. If she had noticed the intrusion that had drawn her compatriots away from her side, she didn't seem to mind; as it was evident that she had opted to draw out her victim's agony for a while, stalking around the woman like some uncoordinated jungle cat while her partners held the woman captive; punctuating every third step or so with a sharp kick to the prisoner's abdomen or back.

"Not so bold now, are you?" She snarled, another kick connecting with the woman's ribcage; the pop that sounded in my ears causing my stomach to twinge "Not when you're all alone, without your big, bad, celly to protect you."

"_Is_ she alone?" I asked then, a faint grin toying with the corner of my mouth as I watched the ring-leader whirl around to face me. An almost predatory smile twisted her face into a grimace as she looked me up and down; and I had to fight my desire to laugh in her face as she raised one eyebrow and stalked towards me as she spoke.

"She will be again, once I take care of you. Should be…easy."

"I wouldn't bet on that" I replied, raising my arm up to deflect the blow she had intended for my face; and using it to force her hand down as I brought my knee up to connect with her stomach. An angry grunt issued from her lips as she doubled over, and I stepped back quickly as her hand darted out in an attempt to grab my foot and yank me off balance; lowering my stance slightly as I saw her beginning to charge in my direction. Allowing myself to be tackled to the ground, I used the momentum of her body colliding with my own to roll over in mid-fall; propelling her away from me with my arms and legs as I scrambled to my feet once again. As I watched her roll to a stop a few feet away; I began to turn back to the other two women who had been restraining their target, only to find myself bowled over as the women I had distracted earlier both ran at me at once.

A yelp of surprise escaped my lips as all three of us tumbled to the ground in a heap, arms and legs tangling together in a frenzied attempt to come out on top; and I soon found myself lying with my back on top of one of the women as her arm wound around my neck while her partner hovered over top of me and drew back her arm for the first punch. Groaning in frustration, and blinking against the stars beginning to pop in my vision; I rammed the palm of my hand up underneath the elbow of the woman who was trying to choke me. She wouldn't budge, however; and I found myself letting out a muffled cry of pain as a fist collided with my cheekbone while I continued trying to free myself from my chokehold.

A second jab to the elbow of the woman beneath me was more successful in freeing my airway than my first attempt, and I let out a ragged gasp as air rushed into my lungs before I registered a second punch being aimed towards my other cheek. Before I could move to roll out of the way, however; the woman on top of me was yanked backwards by some unseen force, and I spent only a moment pondering just who that would be before jamming my own elbow down into the stomach of the woman below me, and rolling to my feet once again.

Panting slightly as I attempted to regain my balance, I risked a glance backwards at the woman I had been trying to protect; noting a fleeting look of fear on her captors' faces before they dropped her arms and ran towards the center of the grounds. Tilting my head slightly to the side in confusion, I turned back around; simultaneously backing up so that I was shielding the beaten woman with my body as I watched several things happening at once.

My cellmate…the one who hadn't said word one to me since our first meeting…had been the one who had yanked my attacker away from me. She was currently maintaining a fierce chokehold of her own around the neck of the woman she had pulled away; a brief nod in my direction all she had to offer before the guards were descending upon us, pulling the remaining squabblers apart roughly and shouting orders left and right. I maintained my stance in front of the injured woman for as long as I could before I found myself being grabbed around the arm by one of the officers, and dragged across the grounds towards the prison doors behind the other women who had been involved in the fight.

"You don't understand!" I protested, jerking my arm out of the grip of the officer as I stopped moving; and taking a tentative step backwards as he made to grab hold of me again "They were going to kill her."

"Sure, sweetheart" He replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he grabbed me again and steered me through the doors, and down the long hallway towards the interrogation room that had become a familiar nuisance to me by now "Keep tellin' yourself that."

Biting my lip to avoid invoking further punishment for speaking out of line; I allowed the man to guide me into the tiny room at the end of the hall, shoving aside my trepidation at how the other women were simply being escorted back to their cells as my eyes flicked to the person who already occupied the room and widened in surprise.

"Here she is, Detective" The officer said then, shoving me towards the seat in the center of the room with no hint of subtlety before he turned to leave "Have fun."

…..

_(thirty minutes later)_

"Let me get this straight" I began, raising an eyebrow as I flicked my gaze up to meet Carter's "This woman, whoever she is, is in danger. And you want me to protect her? Without knowing why she's in trouble; or what's supposed to happen to her?"

Carter gave me a look of understanding as she leaned forward in her chair, and I watched cautiously as she thumbed through the file she had placed in front of me as she spoke.

"Look, I know it's…different. But I have it on very good information that…"

"Who's your source?" I interrupted, taking note of how the detective flinched at my question and cast her eyes downward "Are you sure this isn't some sort of…I don't know…set-up?"

"Natalya…"

"Don't 'Natalya' me, Joss. It's a valid question."

Sighing, Carter passed her hand over her forehead; her tongue darting out to moisten her lips before she returned her gaze to me as she said:

"You're right. And you have no reason to trust anything right now. I get it" She paused then, reaching out a hand to grab mine before going on "But I'm offering you a chance to help someone. To prove that there's more to you than what happened with Mark."

I blinked a few times as I processed what she had said…as I tried to deny that I didn't desperately want to do something, _anything _to at least put a dent in all that I had been a part of. She was offering me a chance at redemption…but I still didn't know that I believed it possible. Hadn't I fallen too far, already?

Seizing the opportunity that was presented by my continued silence, Joss released my hand; turning her attention back to the folder before us and starting up again.

"Miss Petrov is in for murder and aggravated assault. Obviously, she's claiming self-defense. But the Russians don't see it that way."

Scolding myself internally for my curiosity, I looked up at Carter then; bringing a hand up to shove through my hair as I asked:

"The Russians?"

Carter nodded, a faint twitch at the corner of her mouth indicating her amusement at my sudden interest before she replied.

"More specifically, the Russian _mob_."

"Christ…" I breathed, taking another look at the picture of the woman in question "She killed a member of the mob?" I could barely keep the disbelief from coloring my voice…especially when it was clear to me that this woman was no hardened criminal. After all, she had remained defenseless, either intentionally or unintentionally; just moments earlier in the courtyard. Why would anyone with the fighting tactics necessary to commit successful murder remain powerless against something that could be so easily defeated? Couple that with how frightened she looked, even on paper…and I knew that she was no more capable of plotting a murder, than Mark Snow was of being an upstanding gentleman. It had to have been self-defense that landed her here with the rest of us…either that, or she had been set up. Just like I had.

"Dmitri Yogorov" Carter replied then, forcing me out of my thoughts and back into the present as she added "Son of the late Ivan Yogorov."

"Hence why they want her dead."

"Exactly" Carter said with a nod, flipping a page in the file on the table between us, before going on; confident that she held my attention now "My intel suggests that there's a hit out on her."

"Did your mystery source happen to say how they would get at her in here?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion as I peered down at the file "It's not like they're going to be able to send someone in, right?"

"You mean besides the women that attacked her today?"

"But they weren't sent in" I argued, running a hand through my hair once again before continuing "They've been in here longer than I have. If they want her dead so bad, why haven't they tried to go at her before?"

Two letters" Carter replied, leaning back in her chair as she took in my obvious confusion "HR."

"What?"

"HR. Dirty cops. They practically belong to the world of organized crime; despite taking an oath to wipe it out. And they now have control over most of the cops in the city."

"And they can send communication to someone here?" I asked, trepidation stealing over me as I realized that if the mob had control of the police staffing the jail…if they could get word on a hit to any prisoner on the inside…getting someone in to commit murder wouldn't be as hard as I had originally thought. Maybe this woman really _was_ in danger. Hell, maybe even _I_ wasn't as safe as I had originally supposed.

"As easily as you would bend down to tie your shoe" Joss answered, her eyes turning somber as she continued "Hence why I need your help."

"So you think I can stop them from harming this woman, because…"

"Natalya, Mark hand-picked you to help him" Carter began, holding up a hand to stall my imminent protest before going on "Regardless of the end-game he had in mind; that should mean something to you."

"That he picked up on how easy I would be to use?" I quipped, casting my eyes down to my fingernails as a faint tint of red settled over my cheeks; belying my embarrassment and anger "Or how easy it would be for him to pull the wool over my eyes?"

"That you were a skilled fighter! Someone who was dependable. Who could be counted on, when the time came, to follow through."

Shaking my head slowly, I flicked my eyes to the side of the room to avoid her intent gaze as I said:

"And does this…source…of yours feel the same way?"

"That's irrelevant, Natalya" Joss replied, moving around to stand where I would have no choice but to meet her eyes "Because _I_ know you can be counted on. I saw what you did today. And I know you can do this."

Chewing my lower lip, I looked up at her then; marveling at the conviction…at the faith in _me_ that was so evident in her eyes. I couldn't fathom it. Not when she spent her _career_ looking into the eyes of dozens of criminals in similar situations as myself. A part of me thought she must just be grasping at straws…desperate to see the good in someone…_anyone_. Even if that person was the furthest thing from good that she could possibly find. But the more I thought about it…the more intense her eyes became as she watched me mulling this over…the more determined I became to prove her right. To take her up on her offer, despite how little I knew about what I was throwing myself into. Despite how I had no idea who on earth this source of hers was, or what they would do with me after I helped them.

After all, I had gone into the army with the goal of protecting my home from those that would seek to harm it. I went into business with Mark to protect the people from a supposed loose-cannon. And I had done my best to protect that same loose-cannon from an undeserved death.

So why _wouldn't_ I help this woman evade the same fate?

Letting out a huff of soft laughter, I shook my head as I looked up at her; a smirk twirking the right corner of my mouth up into a grin as I said:

"Fine. You've sold me."

Ignoring her look of sheer triumph as she grinned down at me; I chose instead to focus on the file in front of me, my eyes beginning to cautiously scan the intel on the woman I had just attempted to protect as Carter stepped out to make a phone call; likely to her mystery boss. As I continued reading, I had to admit this may not have been the best decision on my part; especially since I was now considering getting in the middle of a fight with the mob.

But hey, it was better than being bored out of my mind, right?

…

**Thoughts? Ideas? Leave 'em in a review! And, as always, thanks for reading!**


	8. Beginning the Game

"_Go on, Natalya" A soft, male voice whispered; a sturdy hand squeezing my shoulder as I stared down at the gun in my hands "Do it."_

_Blinking a few times, I hefted the weight of the metal piece in my hand; uneasiness settling in the pit of my stomach as my eyes flicked to the hooded man before me. He had been forced to his knees by the faceless gunman beside him…and I could see how tense he was just from the set of his shoulders, and the rigid way he held himself. And why wouldn't he be tense? Afraid. He had been brought here to die. He knew that, as well as any of the rest of us._

_And I had been hand-picked to do the job._

_The hand that had squeezed my shoulder slid up towards my neck as I hesitated; a calloused thumb-pad rubbing against my pulse point and making heat thrill through my veins. The sensation was both enticing and repulsive; and I found myself shying away from the touch almost immediately, flinching as the man behind me spoke again._

"_What are you waiting for, sunshine? This man got in the way of our investigation."_

_Shaking my head, I continued holding the gun in a non-committal fashion; running my eyes over the cold perfection in my hands as I spoke._

"_Don't you think this is a bit…extreme?"_

"_If you don't have the stomach for it, Gerard; we can find someone else" The voice said; distaste coloring his tone and making my cheeks flush. Just the tone itself had always had an uncanny way of rendering me completely powerless…the fact that I so desperately sought approval from someone…anyone…making me an easy target for men like the one who stood behind me with his thumb still caressing my neck. My past had been the perfect set up for getting into a situation like this again and again; no matter how hard I tried to stop it…and the man behind me knew that. He knew that I wouldn't be able to refuse him if he even feigned a hint of displeasure…and he was, once again, using that to his advantage._

"_I'll do it" I finally ground out; a brief flare of anger burning through me as I cocked the gun and took aim at the man before me. Something irrational…crazy…took over then, and I found myself stepping forward to tear off the black hood; revealing the pain and fear in the eyes of the man I had been ordered to kill. _

"_I…I have a wife. A child" He begged, a shuddering gasp for breath the only thing that echoed in the room before he spoke again "Please. Please, do not do this."_

_Something in the way his eyes were fixed upon mine almost made me hesitate again…almost…but the man behind me must have suspected that I would falter. No sooner had the pleas of our prisoner been voiced, then my boss…my nightmare…was placing a hand at the back of my neck; his grip tight and unyielding as he said:_

"_They all say that, Natalya. If we showed mercy for them, we'd never get the job done."_

_Squeezing my eyes shut against the thrill I felt at his touch, I took a steadying breath; opening my eyes once again and taking aim for the last time. My finger began the slow squeeze on the trigger as the final seconds of this man's life ticked by…but by the time the bullet had been freed from its metal cage; the man had changed. Gone was the frightened civilian with wife and child. His curly brown hair and matching eyes had been replaced by hair that was silver-grey at the temples; bright blue eyes piercing into me as the bullet connected with its target._

"_Reese…"_

…

Jolting awake with a strangled cry, I sat upright in bed; my hand automatically coming to rest on my chest as I tried to orient myself to my surroundings. Air was coming to me in the form of several heaving gasps; and I unconsciously twisted so that my back could rest against the wall of the prison cell, letting my head fall back with a soft thump against the concrete as I attempted to tame my ragged breathing.

"What the hell, Gerard?" I heard the sleepy voice of my cellmate inquire from her bunk; the squeaking of springs indicating that she was rising from bed "You get a spider in your bed, or something?"

Opening my mouth to reply, I felt a wave of nausea steam-rolling through me; forcing me to clamp my mouth shut with one hand as I looked down at the woman who had become something of a friend since our first meeting. Shaking my head in denial to answer her question; I closed my eyes, once again leaning back against the wall as I tried to breathe through the intense desire to vomit. I had fallen prey to dreams of my various exploits with Mark before…but never had they turned so haunting. Never once had I seen Reese in any of them; despite my guilt surrounding him that was ever present in the back of my mind.

But this dream had been different. Reese had been there, at the last second; instead of the image in my mind remaining the same throughout…and I couldn't fight the suspicion that it was my mind's way of telling me that I had as good as killed him myself, causing yet another wave of nausea to hit me, hard. A small part of me that was still maintaining some modicum of rational thought was nagging at me…diagnosing the dreams…the cold sweats every time I heard vague rumors of Mark's whereabouts from Carter or one of the inmates…as PTSD. That same part of me was clamoring for help…all but demanding that I seek medical attention. I was woken up by dreams at least twice a night if not more. But the more predominant part of me, that must have been insane, was insisting that I keep quiet. If possible, the only thing worse than being in prison for a crime I hadn't committed; was being dubbed 'crazy' while incarcerated…and that was something I couldn't have. Not now. Not if I hoped to help Carter with the task she had appointed me.

"Gerard, c'mon; talk to me" My cellmate pleaded; concern evident in her voice as she looked up at me "You need the doctor, or something?"

Blinking down at her, I paused for a moment; the nausea that I had been so stubbornly trying to resist letting me know it was still very much present as an idea hit me like a ton of bricks. _Of course._ Why hadn't I thought of this before? Carter had informed me before I left her that Petrov…the woman I was supposed to be protecting…had been taken to the prison hospital that was directly adjacent to the main building. The detective had left it up to me to figure out a way in…and up until now I had been at a loss for how to do so.

But that wasn't the case now.

Releasing the tenuous hold I had attempted to exert over the nausea; I barely had the time to duck to the side before letting nature take its course, doing my best to ignore the shiver of revulsion that ran through me at what was happening. The action had the necessary effect, though…before long, my cellmate was hollering for a guard to come; and I allowed myself to be loaded into a wheelchair, attempting a weak smile in an attempt to dissuade the woman's worry as she watched me disappear around the corner.

Now I just had to keep up the act long enough to figure out where this Petrov was…

…..

Around an hour later, complete with yet another bout of unpredicted nausea; it had been determined that I needed to be held for the night. My omission of what had caused my illness seemed to have done the trick in convincing the doctor that I may have something worthy of observation…and I played the part of the good patient well as the nurse stuck me with an IV line for fluids; all the while scanning the area for any indication of where my quarry was being held. I knew I couldn't directly come out and ask without raising suspicion; so I kept my ears tuned for any mention of my fellow prisoner, a task that became relatively simple once the nurse left my side.

It seemed that the staff here liked nothing more than to gossip; something that actually served me well as I strained to hear a conversation across the hall that seemed promising.

"She took quite the beating, before one of the other inmates stepped in" A nurse was saying, the rustle of the papers in the chart she held obscuring the next part of the conversation and forcing me to sit up in a false show of adjusting my blankets so that I could hear better "…give that prisoner a medal. There's no call for such violence."

Allowing myself a faint laugh, I leaned closer as unobtrusively as I could; craning my neck a bit as the orderly replied:

"I'm just glad they've put her in a room by herself. God knows what those animals would do to get at her in here."

"Shh, Grace, they'll hear" The nurse hissed; turning to face the desk before finishing "I'm telling you, some of those guards give me the creeps. I don't think they're on the up and up."

Before I could catch the orderly's reply, however; the doctor that had been by to see me previously had returned, forcing me to lie back down as he asked:

"How are we feeling now? Any better?"

"Not really" I lied, an idea coming to me as I went on "Is there any way I could be moved to somewhere more private? All the noise is making my head spin."

Shaking his head, he helped me pull the blanket up around my shoulders as he replied "We only have the one solitary room, and it's unfortunately occupied."

Keeping up with the façade, I ran a hand over my forehead and let off a little moan; allowing the doctor to check my other arm to ensure the IV line was still properly in place before he said:

"Let's see if I can't get you something for your head."

Just as quickly as he had left, he was back; holding out a tiny plastic cup with half a white pill inside and saying "Take this. It might allow you to get some sleep."

"Thank you" I croaked, taking the cup and popping the pill into my mouth; resisting the urge to vomit yet again as the bitter taste assaulted my tongue when I shifted the pill so it rested against my cheek. Swallowing to give the allusion of taking the medicine, I smiled at the doctor as he backed away from me; waiting until he had disappeared from my line of vision before leaning over across the side of the bed and spitting the pill out. I knew that if I were to have any chance of getting into Petrov's room; I had to act quickly…and I flagged the nearest nurse from her duties; hoisting myself up in bed as I spoke.

"I need to…to use the restroom" I said, feigning as much weakness as I could without going over the top. If I could get them to let me up, I could explore…I could discern where Petrov was being cared for; and determine the next course of action from there. The trick was, getting the staff to allow me to meander about alone.

"Of course" she replied, hurrying over to help me lower the railing on the bed so that I could swing my legs over the side "Easy now. Take it slow" She admonished as she caught my wince when another wave of nausea swept over me from my sudden movements. Nodding at her, I gripped the edge of the bed tightly as I forced myself to my feet; leaning on her offered arm for a moment before I spoke.

"I think I can make it on my own" I said, straightening as slowly as I figured would be plausible given what I was trying to pull off "Where is it?"

The nurse looked slightly hesitant, as though she was unsure that she should really let me alone; despite how she had to have known that there was no way I could escape, even if I had wanted to. She seemed to think better of her hesitancy, though; and I caught her nodding as she said:

"Sure. Right down the hall on your right. You sure you can make it alone?"

"Yes, thank you" I replied, waiting for her to wheel the IV pole around to me before curling my fingers around the metal and beginning the treck towards my destination. I moved slowly enough to both appear still slightly unstable; as well as observe my surroundings…my eyes always scanning the beds I passed by in an effort to discern which room only held one. By the time I had approached the bathroom, I had yet to identify the room in question…until I happened to look towards the room directly across from where I was standing.

The blinds on the window beside the door were partly open, and I could see the faint outline of a woman lying on the single bed in the room…blond hair clearly visible fanned out on the pillow. This was the woman I had been searching for…I was sure of that now. But I forced myself to enter the bathroom so that I wouldn't draw attention to myself; shutting the door behind me, and leaning against the cool metal as I thought over my options.

I had to find some way into that room…some way to talk to her and find out what was really going on. After that, assuming she would trust me; we could talk over our options. Hash out what we would do about ensuring her safety, especially given that I wouldn't be able to be around her all the time. Not while I was still locked up.

But if I could get a different outfit…

Grasping onto the fleeting chance presented to me, I reached down to yank the IV tubing out of my arm; hissing as pain roared to life around the hole left in my arm, before dropping the tube and pressing paper toweling over the wound. Nudging the pole aside with my foot, I situated myself on the floor of the bathroom; reaching up to pull on the call cord as I prepared to put my plan into action.

I only hoped that it would work.

…

_(Hotel room, Lexington and Fifty-Seventh)_

"_I don't care what you have to do, Peter; you do the job right" An angry voice demanded through the speaker of the phone; causing the man holding it to draw it away from his ear "The bitch killed your brother."_

_Before the man in the room could reply, the line went dead; a sudden surge of anger causing him to chuck the device across the room until it shattered against the wall. Running his hands through dark hair, he took a seat on the edge of the bed; fingers curling into fists as he thought of the task before him. The women he had enlisted to take out the murdering whore who had wiped his brother from the face of the earth had failed to do their job. Some inmate posing as a hero had seen to that. And now he was left with the job himself. He was the only one he could trust. _

_A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts, and he let out a rough groan as he hoisted himself from the bed; making it from the bed to the door in five steps and wrenching it open._

"_What do you…"_

"_We want the same thing, my friend" The bald man at Peter's door said; his voice smooth…compelling…despite the fact that he was a complete stranger. Something about the way he carried himself had the hotel room's inhabitant allowing him inside; shutting the door behind the stranger before turning and addressing him._

"_What do you want?"_

"_I want the same thing you do" The stranger replied, adjusting the sleeve of his suit jacket and taking a seat on a chair by the kitchen table "I want a woman in prison dead."_

"_What do you want with Petrov?"_

_The man in the suit shook his head then; flicking a stray crumb on the table away before replying:_

"_I don't want Petrov. But the woman I want has close ties to her."_

"_How so?" The dark haired man asked, raising an eyebrow at his guest and awaiting his reply. _

"_She's the woman who saved her. And you're going to help me get to her, too."_

…_.._

**Hello there! Wow, it's been a while since I've updated, hasn't it? I really am sorry for that. School, work, other stories, and family commitments; not to mention a lack of clarity on how this chapter should work waylayed me for a bit. But I'm back! **

**I figured I'd do a filler chapter here since it had been so long since I'd written for this story. But rest assured, next time we get into the real action! Don't hesitate to let me know what you think of this little guy, though. I love hearing your thoughts!**

**Thank you again for all of your patience and understanding! Enjoy the read!**

**MJR**


	9. Cat and Mouse

It wasn't long before I heard the sound of footsteps heading towards the bathroom; and I made sure to scoot over just enough to allow whoever was coming to open the door to get inside, squeezing my eyes shut and taking a breath in preparation for what I was about to do. I would only have one shot at whoever was about to come through that door. One shot before I was likely hauled off to solitary again for assaulting a staff member. So it was imperative that I got this right.

I heard the door creak open slowly then, and I opened my eyes at the last second as the nurse who had been discussing my fellow inmate's predicament with 'Grace' entered the room; concern taking over her face as she shut the door behind her. I caught her shaking her head with something akin to pity as she bent down and reached out to grab my arms in an attempt to pull me up from off of the floor; but she was soon letting out a startled yelp as I latched onto her and pulled her to the ground, my other hand going to her mouth to muffle any further cries.

"I'm not going to hurt you" I told her; my voice hushed as I hovered over her, maintaining my hand's position over her mouth and nose as she struggled, albeit weakly, beneath me. The panicked look in her eyes was making my stomach turn; and I did my best to keep my voice level as I said "You're going to black out in a few seconds. And when you wake up, you'll be just fine."

The nurse continued to struggle, however; her attempts getting weaker as I tried my best to give her the impression that I spoke the truth. That I wasn't truly going to hurt her. What I was doing now was something that my CO overseas had taught me to use when we were trying to bring in a civilian for questioning; and didn't want to harm them. Simply cut off the air supply through the mouth, prevent all but the faintest hint of air to get through the nose, and bam. Their struggles would quickly deplete whatever oxygen stores they had inside them, and the limited amount they could still take in wouldn't be enough to prevent a total black out. An hour, maybe two, later, though; and they were awake. With nothing more than a faint headache to remind them of what had happened; they would be completely unharmed, and able to talk.

Surely enough, her struggles eventually ceased, and I removed my hand from her face; grabbing her under the arms and dragging her over so that she could rest against the wall by the bar that was in place for someone to use to help them up from the toilet. Casting a brief glance at my own apparel, I gently removed the sweater she wore over her shoulders; casting it aside and tugging her pants away, before removing my own and replacing them with hers. Draping my orange slacks over her legs; I stooped to don her sweater over my t-shirt, snagging the rubber band from its pocket and tying my hair back in a sloppy ponytail before stepping back and inspecting my appearance in the mirror.

Once I was sure the orange of my shirt was successfully hidden beneath her paisley sweater, I returned to the IV pole and abandoned tubing; wheeling it over towards the woman I had just incapacitated and looping the plastic tubing securely around her wrists a few times before I removed the IV bag from the pole, winding it around the bar in such a fashion as to make reaching it from her position difficult. It wasn't ideal, by any means; and it probably wouldn't hold for long once she woke up…but it would serve its purpose long enough for me to move on to my intended destination, and make my attempt at getting the woman I was protecting out of danger.

Moving over to the door, I placed my ear against the cool barrier; listening for signs that anyone had heard the brief struggle, before slowly opening it and stepping out into the hallway. As I shut the door behind me, I took note that none of the other individuals nearby had even given me a passing glance…and I allowed a faint smile to toy at my lips before moving across the hall towards my intended destination; casting one more obligatory glance around at my surroundings before slipping inside and shutting the door behind me. My eyes immediately flicked to the bed in the center of the room, where my intended charge was dozing…and I quietly approached her; placing my hand gently on her arm as I attempted to wake her.

It was surprisingly easy to rouse her, and I found myself shocked at the speed with which she yanked her arm away from me as she hissed "The nurse just left; and another one isn't due for half an hour. Who the _hell_ are you?"

"I'm not with the Russians" I replied, noting her look of absolute disbelief as I went on "I'm here to help you."

"If you aren't with them, how do you know of their intentions?"

Her eyes had narrowed up at me as she spoke, and I bit my lip as I attempted to think of a suitable response; not at all sure how to put her at ease when I knew so little of what was truly behind the reason I was here. Carter had barely given me anything to go on; other than the fact that I needed to help this woman…so what was I supposed to tell her so that she would believe I was on her side?

"Let's just say I…I have a source."

Kicking myself internally at the completely unsuitable response I had just proffered; I watched the woman before me as she replied.

"Who? One of the people Yogorov has on the inside?"

"Hardly. She's someone we can both trust. She has a plan to get you out of here."

"Really? And how do I know you won't just kill me once you get your own shot at freedom?" She inquired, shocking me with her perception of what was going on. She was reacting much in the same way I had done when Carter first proposed her idea to me. And really, who could blame her? The woman had been thrown under the bus more than enough times in her life; just as I had. But I had to find a way to get through to her.

"Miss Petrov, if I wanted to kill you; you would be dead already" I said then, hoping that my sudden change in tactic wouldn't throw her off even more as I went on "I wouldn't be waiting for the opportune moment to escape _with_ you; because that escape would already be guaranteed once the Russians had proof of your demise."

She regarded me with a suspicious look then, and I did my best to remain silent; determined to avoid doing or saying anything further that would serve to increase her suspicions. Something in her eyes told me that she was starting to believe what I had told her…and it was all I could do to not let the elation I felt show on my face as she spoke up.

"So this…friend of yours. What, exactly, is her plan?"

"It's more so improvisation, than an actual plan" I replied, ignoring the trepidation that once again took over Petrov's features as I stepped over to the phone hanging on the wall by the door. Picking up the device, I reached into my shirt pocket; drawing out the card Carter had given me; and dialing the cell number she had scrawled on the back. Two rings were all it took for her to pick up; and I found myself holding back a laugh as her voice came through.

"Carter."

"Joss, it's me" I began, casting a look at Petrov to ensure that she still seemed willing to partake in this little venture before I went on "She's in. Where do you want to meet?"

A brief pause ensued, before I heard Carter take a breath; letting it out in a whoosh as she replied "The OR is in the back of the building, yes?"

"It is."

"And it has a door leading to an exit wing on the south side of the yard?"

"Yes."

"Can you get her there?"

Pursing my lips, I mentally went over the distance between my current location and the one she referred to…the obstacles I was likely to encounter along the way…and coming to the conclusion that it didn't seem altogether undoable; I replied in the affirmative.

"Barring any complications; I think so, yes."

I heard the scrape of a chair on the other line, indicating Carter had stood from her seat; her breathing picking up as she said "Good. Meet me there in fifteen."

Before I could reply, however; a loud bang echoed towards us from further off down the hall, and I hurried to peer out from the blinds in the room as Carter asked:

"What the hell was that?"

From my vantage point, I really couldn't see all that much; so I shut the blinds once again, motioning to Petrov to stay in her bed as I opened the door a crack so that I could look out. It seemed as though everyone within our small unit was running towards the main facility at a rather generous pace; and I didn't have long to wait to find out the cause of their flight. Seconds after the bang, the prison alarms were ringing through the building; flashing lights accompanying the din and causing me to squeeze my eyes shut at the sudden onslaught of light and sound as I shut the door behind me once again. Taking a deep breath, I tried to still my nerves; fighting against the nausea that had reared its ugly head once again as I answered.

"Something's set off the alarm."

I heard a deep sigh from the other end of the line, and as I waited for Carter to say something…anything…I cast my glance back towards the blonde woman I was charged with; raising an eyebrow as she inquired:

"So is _this_ a part of your plan?"

Shaking my head, I turned to peek out the window one more time; my heart jumping into my throat as I saw a man that looked suspiciously like one of the HR cops in Carter's photos coming down the hall towards our room. Ducking beneath the sill instinctively, I remained crouched on the ground; motioning to Petrov to stay as still as possible while I simultaneously hissed into the phone.

"Simmons is here, Carter."

A low curse was all I heard from her for a brief moment; and I was just about to ask her if she had any brilliant ideas for getting us out of this, when she finally spoke.

"Were there any other men with him?"

"No, not that I could see" I replied, inching up from my spot on the ground in an attempt to see if more cops had appeared. I had never expected to get my charge out of here without incident, of course. But extra cops on top of the already fair number of guards I would stand to encounter was certainly not ideal. Not by a long shot.

"Get out of there, Natalya" Carter ordered, snapping me out of my thoughts; and prompting me to slowly begin moving towards the bed as she went on "Get to the OR by any means necessary. And do it quickly. Just because Simmons doesn't have back up now doesn't mean there aren't more on the way."

Muttering my agreement, I cast one last glance into the hallway to ensure there wasn't someone immediately outside the window; before standing and motioning for the shell-shocked woman before me to stand up. Surprisingly, she did as instructed easily enough; her eyes wide as she watched me speak into the phone one last time.

"Carter?"

"Yeah, Natalya."

"Do us a favor and don't get caught in traffic?"

"You can do this, Natalya" Joss said, her voice hushed as I took note of the sounds of a flurry of activity in the background "I'll be there as quickly as I can."

The line went dead then, the dial tone only serving to cause my nerves to heighten as I placed the device back on its receiver and turned to face the wide eyes of my companion. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides, clearly in an effort to stop the shaking that was wracking her body; and I did my best to send her an encouraging look as I said:

"You ready?"

Swallowing stiffly, she gave me a curt nod; her lips pursed into a thin line as she moved to stand beside me. Situating myself so that her body was behind mine for when I finally opened the door; I froze, my hand just about to turn the handle as I caught a glint of metal out of the corner of my eye. Flicking my gaze towards the source of the distraction, I found my eyes widening as I took in the site before me.

A wheelchair. And beside it, in a box on the wall; were surgical masks.

_Perfect._

"Wait" I said then, throwing out my hand to stop her from moving to open the door herself. Walking over to the corner, I grabbed two of the masks, before wheeling the chair back towards the stunned woman; holding one of the masks out to her as I said "Put this on, and sit in the chair."

"Wha…why?"

"We may stand more of a chance of getting out unharmed if they think we're just a nurse and her patient heading down for a procedure" I replied; holding the mask closer to her until she finally relented, and took it from my hand. I caught a faint resurgence of doubt flooding her eyes as she put the shield over her face; but I chose to ignore it, instead moving the chair closer to her so that she could sit before donning my own mask, and approaching the door. My hand closed around the cool metal of the doorknob; and I paused one last time, looking down at the woman in the chair as I asked:

"You ready?"

"I don't really have a choice, now; do I?"

Offering her a half-hearted smirk even though she couldn't see it, I twisted the handle; opening the door, and wheeling her out into the hallway slowly, so that I could get a better appreciation of what was going on in the surrounding area. Seeing no one in the immediate vicinity, I shut the door to her room behind us; tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear before turning the chair in the direction of the OR. Shockingly enough, we made it about halfway down the long hallway, before taking note of an officer moving towards us from the other end; and I leaned down towards Petrov, whispering softly as I continued wheeling her down the hall.

"If he stops us, act like you're in a lot of pain."

I caught her nodding faintly as I straightened my position; and I steered her over to the side of the hall as we came upon the time to pass the officer, nodding my head in his direction as we passed. I was just about ready to breathe a sigh of relief for having made it past our first obstacle; but before I could, I felt my heart sink as the officer addressed us from behind.

"You look like you're heading to the OR" He said, suspicion lacing his tone as I turned slowly to face him.

"Yes."

"Where's her authorization for the procedure?"

Blinking a few times, I quickly recovered my composure; feigning a moment of senility as I began rummaging in the pockets of the sweater I now wore. My mumbles of "it must be here, somewhere" and the like were seemingly enough to assuage the young man, however; and he looked as though he was just about to consent to letting us go on our way when I heard a shout from the end of the hallway we had just come from.

"Stop right there!" The voice commanded, forcing the officer who had stopped us to freeze in place as he turned to face his superior. As the newcomer drew near, I soon recognized the look of terror in our first waylayer's eyes…and I swallowed slowly as I unconsciously backed a few steps away towards the opposite end of the hallway; forcing myself to take a deep breath as this new version of a delay came to a stop just a short distance away.

"What are these two doing down here?" He asked, his eyes drilling into his underling as he awaited a reply. There could be no denying now that this _was_ Simmons…one of the men in league with organized crime…and I flinched slightly as I felt Petrov's cool hand close tightly around my wrist as she tried not to panic; my own hand moving to cover hers as our delayer answered the question of his superior.

"They're on the way to the OR" He replied, his voice shaking slightly as he cast a wary glance our way. The scornful look that Simmons threw him in response had him backtracking quickly; and I watched as the lead member of HR out on the street reached his hand down to the radio at his shoulder, a strange gleam in his eyes as he spoke.

"Gents, I think I've found our target; plus a little…"

Before he could finish, I made a dive for him; a grunt leaving him as he went down beneath me, the radio clacking and splitting at the top as it connected with the tiling on the floor. Despite my early advantage, though; he soon had me pinned underneath him, the cigarettes on his breath making my stomach clench as I kneed him in the groin. A yell of pain was the only indication that he had felt the blow; his body still resolutely above mine as he moved to close his hands around my throat. Before he could complete the act, however; I moved my wrists up to bat his hands away at the last second, moving swiftly, and head-butting him so that he finally tumbled off of me. Adrenaline must have allowed me to put more force into that act than I had originally intended…and I fought back a harried laugh as I watched him slump, unconscious, to the floor; before I stooped to grab his gun, tucking it in between the seam of my pants, and my back as I turned to face Petrov.

The look on her face, and the face of the officer who had originally waylayed us, was one of such shock and surprise that I might have been tempted to make a quick jest at their expense…but the reality of Simmons' cronies in all likelihood heading our way at the sudden disappearance of their comrade's voice hit me hard; and I grabbed Petrov's arm, yanking her towards me and, ignoring her yelp of surprise as I addressed the officer:

"Get out of here before they find you" I said, tugging Petrov down the hall as I finished "It might be best if you found a different job."

Turning to run full out towards our destination, I caught Petrov's hand taking hold of my own as she spoke up, her voice laced with fear as she said:

"What…the hell? What were you thinking, assaulting that officer?"

"If I hadn't, we'd both be dead by now" I replied, my voice tight as we rounded the corner and made for the final stretch. This hallway, too, was surprisingly empty; all of its inhabitants likely being drawn off towards the sound of the din made by the alarms…and I steered Petrov to the right so that anyone coming from an off-shoot to our left would encounter me first as I continued "Simmons is HR."

"How do you…"

"How do I know?" I finished for her, catching her nod of assent as I explained "My source showed me pictures of men who were secretly working for the heads of organized crime. That officer we just saw…was one of them."

Petrov fell silent then, the only sounds in the hallway being our steady breathing as we drew to a stop before the doors of the OR; my hand once again darting out to stall her as I said:

"Let me go first. In case it's a trap."

Seeing her nod, I drew Simmons' gun out from behind me; holding it at the ready as I prepared to enter the room, only to stop short as I familiar voice called out to me.

"Gerard, wait up!"

Turning to face the sound, I found myself unable to stop the shock from taking over my features as I watched my cellmate running towards us from one of the side hallways. How she had gotten free of everyone else and made it down here was beyond me…but as she drew near, I could tell that she had likely been involved in a scuffle in order to even be here at all. As I watched her come to a stop before us, I caught her look of surprise at the gun in my hand; but to her credit, she didn't mention anything about it, instead choosing to risk a glance at Petrov before going on "What do you think you're doing?"

"It isn't any of your concern" I snapped, regret flaring through me at the slightly downcast look in the woman's eyes as I amended "I'm doing something for a friend. It'd really be safer for you if you stayed out of it."

"You know that's not my way of doing things."

"Well, it should be" I replied, casting an anxious glance around me as I half expected to see more of HR swarming out of the woodwork "Listen, I have to get this woman out of here; and then I'll explain everything. I promise. Just go where everyone else is. I'll meet you there."

She looked as though she were about to continue her argument against me, and I found myself rolling my eyes at her stubbornness; only to wind up stumbling backwards as a loud bang echoed from behind her. For a moment I was unable to identify the object that would have made such a sound…but what happened next left me in no doubt. My cellmate's eyes widened as she continued staring at me, her mouth ajar in an almost nonsensical fashion as she slowly tumbled to the left; hitting the floor with a thump as blood seeped onto the ground around her. Fighting the urge to scream…to panic…I instead took note of the all-too-familiar black hood covering the face of the man standing behind where my friend had once been; before grabbing onto Petrov's arm once again, raising Simmons' gun before me and yanking her backwards towards the door to the OR as I tried to force all the venom I could muster into my next words.

"No matter who shoots first, I won't miss."

A whoosh of air hitting the back of my neck was my only indication that there was someone standing behind us, now…and I felt my very bones prickle with apprehension and fear as a voice I had hoped to reserve only to my nightmares spoke from behind me.

"Always so confident, sunshine. Too bad that never really got you very far, in the end."

Before I could reply, I felt the sharp snap of a gun barrel against the back of my head; a faint scream the only noise I heard as the world around me faded to black…

…

**Hello my darlings! Once again, I must apologize for this delay in posting. As you already know if you've looked over my profile, I've just now started rotations for my fourth year in pharmacy school; so my life is even less "my own" than it was when I was sitting in classes all day. That being said, I may not be able to update any of my stories as often as you were used to; but rest assured that I will try my best to keep horrid delays from going beyond the reasonable.**

**Now for your thoughts on this chapter! What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Feel free to let me know in a review, and as always…**

**Thanks for reading!**

**MJR**

**Ps-we can all blame Dasiygirl95 for the cliffie! (Love ya, girlie)!**


	10. You are Nothing

**Hello everyone! Finally, another update for Natalya! Admittedly, I recognize that it IS a tad bit shorter than what you're used to. But I ask you to please bear with me. I wanted to go into what was going to happen to her now that she was "captured" without being too gorey (you'll see what I mean in a minute when you read); and I still have yet to figure out exactly how I want her to get out of this. I have some ideas of course, but the final work is still rough around the edges. So for now I'm giving you this tidbit since I haven't updated in forever…and I hope that can tide you over until I get the meat and potatoes taken care of (haha).**

**That being said, I'd like to thank you all for being so patient (again!) and for taking the time to read this! I hope you like the chapter; and please do not hesitate to leave your thoughts in a review!**

**Until next time**

**MJR**

…

A strange grinding sound reached my ears as consciousness once again returned to me; causing me to wince and shrink in on myself as my eyelids fluttered open, blinking furiously against the blinding light above me. Shaking my head to ward off the ringing in my ears, I squinted; trying to get my bearings, and swallowing past the pounding of my heart in my throat as an unfamiliar voice rang out from somewhere outside the small circle of light directly above me.

"Do you know who you are up against?"

The voice was heavy…a thick accent made the words almost choppy as they spilled from the stranger's lips; and I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to place the speaker's native country. The next voice brought my thoughts to a screeching halt, though; and I kept my eyes tightly closed while I listened intently.

"You're the one who seems oblivious to what you're dealing with here, Yogorov" The voice sneered, causing a shiver to roll through me as I slowly rotated my head in the direction of the voice "I could make you disappear with a phone call."

"That _bitch_ is the reason my brother damn near died" The foreign voice hissed; a low groan and a muted thud the only noises reaching me before it spoke again "The whore, and her little friend are coming with me."

"Like hell."

Several additional thuds echoed in the room like silenced gunfire; each of them causing a dull ache to throb through my skull before the voice that had haunted my dreams of late came back with a vengeance.

"If you value your life, you will leave. _Now_. I'll take it from here."

A pause ensued, during which I had no way of knowing what was going on…I could only tell that tension was palpable in the humid room. It was as though electricity was crackling through the air; waiting for the right moment to snap. But before I had a chance to shift my body so that I might stand more of a chance of getting a look at the stranger; a door was opening…slamming shut…and the only sound that remained was my own shallow breathing, and the muted thumping of footsteps as they approached me.

"I know you're awake, Natalya."

Groaning, I forced my eyes open despite the blinding light glaring down at me; fighting with all I had not to shrink away from the man standing over what I was reclining on…a bed? Honestly, I couldn't really tell what was holding me supine…I didn't even know where I was. All I knew was that Mark Snow was leering down at me. And that was definitely not a good sign.

"There we go. Show me those eyes. You and I have a lot to talk about."

Swallowing thickly, I shook my head; fighting against the throbbing that was still hounding my skull as I managed to croak "Go to hell, Mark."

"Such a fighter" Mark smiled, running a thumb across my cheek bone and causing me to cringe as he went on "Something I always admired about you…until now."

Blinking, I shifted slightly; finally coming out of my fog enough to recognize that my wrists were cuffed to the bed I was on. Ignoring the flash of fear that this bondage brought on, I opted for diverting my old boss' attention; wetting my lips once with my tongue before I asked:

"Where's the woman I was with?"

A low laugh escaped Mark then, his eyes crinkling up at the corners despite how the smile never reached his eyes. I had seen that half-assed attempt at genuine emotion before…and it wasn't fooling me now any more than it had then.

"She's being taken care of" Was his simple reply; an answer that did nothing but ramp up my anxiety "Much the same as you will be, sunshine."

"Stop calling me that" I ground out; doing my best to avoid the instinctive urge to yank my hands hard against the cuffs that were binding them as anger mingled with concern for the woman I had so recently attempted to save "You don't get to call me that anymore."

"I don't think you're in any position to be giving orders, Natalya" Mark replied, twirling a loose strand of my hair possessively around his finger and running his thumb haphazardly along its length as he went on "From where I'm standing, you're the one bound and gagged; in a manner of speaking. Not that I'm objecting, of course."

"Why don't you just cut to the chase, Mark? What do you want from me?"

He shook his head from his position above me; another half-chuckle escaping as he walked around the surface I was resting on, his fingers skimming lightly against my right shoulder as he came to rest on my opposite side.

"Everything, Natalya. Just like always. But first I think, we can start…with how you knew Miss Petrov was a target in the first place."

Biting my lip, I inhaled deeply; trying to buy time while I thought up a suitable reason that was the furthest thing from the truth. Leave it to Mark to figure out that I had been acting with help. The man knew me better than anyone, unfortunately…and I knew for a fact that he wasn't about to buy just any excuse I could cook up. So I swallowed slowly, making a show of wincing under the bright light as I turned my head to face him, and smiled faintly as I replied:

"She came to me for help" I whispered, my voice coming out in a croak as I allowed a small laugh to escape "Said someone was after her. Knew I had a record of being able to defend myself."

"C'mon, Natalya" Mark interjected; shaking his head and bringing his hand down to curl around my shackled wrist as he went on "You and I both know it couldn't have been that simple. Nothing with you ever is."

"This is" I argued, shifting in vain to release my wrist from Mark's hold "She knew she was in danger. I helped her. End of story."

"Except you didn't help her; did you?" Mark sneered; his eyes shifting to rest on the door at the far end of the room as a shrill scream echoed towards us from the other side "She's not any safer where she is now, than she was in that jail cell."

"You son of a bitch" I ground out; instinct driving me to pull at the chains holding me in place in spite of the pain that knifed through my wrists as the metal cut into my skin "What do you want with her?"

"I don't want anything from her" Mark replied, grinning down at me and running both his hands down my arms to stop my struggles "She belongs to someone else now. Her fate isn't in my hands."

Squeezing my eyes shut as the feeling of his hands on my skin did its best to make me vomit; I clenched my teeth together, shrinking back as much as I could against the hard surface I was resting on as Mark's grip tightened while he spoke.

"_Your _fate, though…is under my control. So I'd suggest you cooperate."

He bent down over me then, his breath hot on my face as I reluctantly opened my eyes; fighting the urge to spit in his face as he finished.

"Talk, Natalya."

"I have nothing to say to you, Mark."

A low laugh reached my ears then; causing a shiver to roll down my spine as the sensation of Mark's lips hovering just outside the shell of my ear froze me in place. My fingers curled into fists of their own accord as he hovered above me for a moment in silence; the sound of my rapid intake of breath as my nails dug into the skin of my palm the only sound in the room until Mark finally spoke again.

"Nothing now; I suppose" He whispered; leaning down to bite softly at my earlobe, and causing me to flinch as he pulled back to his former stance above me "But you will talk to me eventually; Natalya. You're not strong enough to hold out for long."

"Why don't you try me?"

"Oh I think I will" Mark leered; backing away from me and walking over to a dark corner of the room directly across from me, stooping to rummage through what could only be a duffel bag until he found what he was looking for. Turning back to face me, he tapped the blade of a knife against his palm while he walked back towards me.

"This is going to be _fun._"

…

It always amazed me how being the one to torment someone made time just…fly by. The sport of it…the game of cat and mouse with your captive…my time with Mark had made it all seem like seconds passing, rather than hours. But now that _I _was the one being held…now that _I _was the one with broken bones and bloody arms…

Time was doing its best to just drag by.

Leaning my head back so that it thumped against the wall I was now chained to; I closed my eyes, taking shallow breaths to avoid sparking more pain from the simple effort of inhaling. I had always known that Mark was an expert in all forms of torture…of pushing someone to the breaking point, both physically, and emotionally.

And now…I was just another toy, to him. Another weak human that he could play with until he either got what he wanted, or I died. What he didn't know…was that I was _very_ willing to do the latter. He was asking me to give up my source…to give up the one who had alerted me to Petrov being in danger. He had seen through my efforts at hiding my outside assistance. And now he wanted me to betray the one person who had actually tried to help me. To give me a purpose.

He just had no way of knowing exactly how far I would go to avoid doing that.

For all of the heavy hits Mark had thrown my way; I refused to give in to his demands. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing Joss Carter had been the one to turn on him to help me. I wouldn't give him the ability to go after her…her son…just because I didn't want to deal with a little pain. No, I would hold out. I would withstand whatever it was he had to throw at me. No matter what the cost.

Cringing as I felt a trickle of blood roll down my arm from the thin slash at my shoulder, I pursed my lips to keep from letting my apprehension show; blinking slowly as Mark came into view from beyond the door at the far side of the room, a hot iron in his hands.

Here we go again…

…..

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Natalya" Mark hissed; holding the iron just inches above my bare abdomen, a strange glint in his eyes as he winked at me "Who…is…your…source?"

With each word, the iron dropped painstakingly closer to my skin; the twitch of my muscles seeming to afford Mark a great amount of amusement and satisfaction as he finally brought the searing metal into contact with my body. The shriek that emanated from me didn't stay his hand though…instead causing him to press the iron further into my stomach as I instinctively arched towards him in an effort to push the device away from my body. Finally, after what seemed like forever; the iron was gone…and my breath left me in little gasps as I attempted to regain equilibrium.

"You think you're being the hero, here, don't you?" Mark asked me then; his hand coming to press on my stomach by where the iron had been just seconds before, causing me to whimper against my will as he went on "Maybe people will remember you this way…your name can live on…"

"Shut…"

"No, sunshine. I won't shut up. See, you need to know that no one is coming for you. _No one will remember you_. Things would be so much easier for you if you could just realize that."

Before I could reply, the iron was against my side; pressing into the exposed skin and causing me to convulse once before I blacked out once again.

…..


	11. Angel of Death

There comes a moment in every person's life when time ceases to have meaning anymore. You can see the world moving around you…you can feel other people continuing on with their lives. But for you, it stops. Everything happens in slow motion; and you stand at the center of it all, unable to do anything but watch as the world keeps on turning.

My moment to experience this…was now.

I couldn't honestly say how long Mark had held me prisoner. The almost constant half-darkness in the room that had become my new hell on earth, coupled with the lack of windows made it impossible to tell where one day ended and another began. Mix that in with the almost constant presence of either Mark, or another one of his goons prying me for information…and I was left with no pattern to discern whether or not a week had passed, or only a few days. I could feel myself growing weaker as time wore on; my stubborn refusal of the meager allotment of food Mark had provided at regular intervals not helping matters as my body tried to resist succumbing to the onslaught of everything that had been thrown my way. It had gotten to the point where I could barely move on my own, now; every muscle seeming locked in place no matter how much I ached to shift…to stretch. I was cognoscente enough to know that I was still locked down on the same bed I had woken up in…in prime position to take as many blows as were necessary to give Mark the information he desired.

Swallowing stiffly, I winced past the searing pain elicited by the simple act; a low groan escaping as I felt a thousand little pinpricks roaring to life in my throat. For a moment, I could barely breathe as I struggled to keep from crying out; a curse echoing in my mind as I remembered what it was that had caused such pain to become my near constant companion. Mark had become almost convinced that the self-same tactic we had perfected in China would work on me…and so it was that I had found myself damn near drowned as he attempted to elicit the information I would never part with. Having suffered a broken arm by then, in addition to a dislocated shoulder; I was rendered completely unable to support my body as I was dunked, head-first into a wooden tub…my instinctive gasp for air causing not only water, but salt to enter my throat and lungs. Hence the ragged burning now, as though my windpipe had been shredded to bits.

After that little incident…hours it seemed…Mark had stormed out of the dingy little room; likely more so in an effort to restrain himself from out and out killing me for my stubbornness, rather than in actual need of a break. As he left, I had earned myself a sharp punch to the left cheek for my unbidden smirk as he walked past me; a matter that had rendered my left eye swollen shut, and had caused blood from the impact with my nose to occasionally pool in the back of my throat.

Turning my head to the side, I spat out more of the dark red stuff; a dry cough wracking my body and causing me to tense up as pain tore through every nerve ending I had. Resting my head on its side, I forced myself to take short, shallow breaths; partly in an effort to prevent aggravating my likely broken ribs, and also to avoid causing still more blood to make its way down to my throat. I had reached the point, by now, where I knew I was running out of time. Mark's patience, if it could be called that, was certain to reach its limits here soon. And I knew that I was coming to the point where I would either have to die…or disclose what little I knew about Carter and her intel.

And, God help me, I was ready to die.

My mind tried telling me that I had to look out for myself, here. That I had to call upon some long forgotten self-preservation instinct to survive. But the fact of the matter was, I was not about to betray one more person just to save my own skin. I had already earned myself a special place in hell for allowing myself to become a part of the mission to take Reese down. And I was all out refusing to bring Carter down just so that I could survive to live another day with my guilt. She had a _son_. Someone to fight for. To live for. And what did I have?

A hell of a lot of nothing. So really, what else could I do but die? Knowing that I would have resisted ruining the woman who had so desired to help me…knowing that my last act on this earth would piss Mark off to no end…that was enough to steel my resolve, despite my minute hesitations over leaving the world. There was so much I felt I had yet to do. So much I wanted to be. But if living meant I would put another person at risk for death…then I had no choice.

My body, though, seemed to have other plans. No matter how many times I silently prayed to just…fall asleep, and not wake up; it was as though something in me _wanted _to keep going. To keep fighting. In spite of all of the abuse it had endured, my body kept dragging on…as though it had something to fight for that I could never be aware of. I tried telling myself, in the rare moments when I was truly alone, that Mark was right. No one was going to come looking for me. I had severed all ties with my so-called family back home when I left for the military…and anyone who would have thought I mattered enough in that neck of the woods had been blown to bits. I was, in fact, alone. And really, considering what I faced now…it was better that way.

But even that didn't stop my physical being from fighting like hell to remain on the earth; in spite of how my mind had long since given up the fight. It was as though some outside force was keeping me alive without my consent. Couple that with the dreams…dreams of a shadowy figure bursting in at the last possible second to get me out of this…and I was at a loss for how to overcome what was before me. I had no way of knowing how long I would last before Mark got his way, and I snapped; telling him everything. But with something in me that refused to give up…

What was I to do?

A hollow sound…footsteps…reached my ears, then; and I squeezed the only eye that was able to remain open, shut tightly as I heard them come to a stop outside the door. A faint creak was the only indication I had that the door had opened…and I heard a low chuckle that made my stomach curl in on itself as the door shut with a thud, and the person who had entered approached me.

"Still holding on, I see" Mark's voice all but whispered; his hand coming to rest against the shoulder that he had dislocated some unknown period of time prior, squeezing with a force that had me yelping in spite of myself as he went on "All you have to do is tell me what I want to know. Then this…will end. You can go free."

"You really think I'm…dumb enough to believe…that?" I asked between gasps for air; the pain his hand had elicited roaring through me until my whole body ached "I'm a…liability, Mark. You know that."

"True" He replied; bringing his free hand into view as I cracked my eye open reluctantly, a shiver rolling through me at the glint of a serrated metal blade in his grasp "But you have to know I haven't tried _everything_ in my arsenal to get you talking."

"You're just…wasting time…"

"I know, Natalya. But this is so much _fun_."

Biting my lower lip, I did my best to keep myself from crying out as I felt Mark drawing the hem of my shirt up until my abdomen was bare to him. Everything in my power to use the compartmentalization techniques that he himself had taught me was rendered futile as I felt the knife come to rest just millimeters over one of the scars from my shrapnel wound from overseas…and as blade met skin, my teeth sank into my lip; drawing blood as a ragged cry rose from my throat.

Mark's answering leer forced me to close my eye once again; fighting with all I had to succumb to the blackness that waited for me on the other side. The end had to come soon…

Because I didn't know how much more of this I was going to be able to take.

…

Hours later, I remained awake; locked in the silence of the now deserted room that Mark had assured me would never allow my cries to be heard. He had left me alone for the longest time…longer than he ever had before. And a part of me…the insane part, obviously…almost wanted him back; just to have something to break the damned hold that the silence had over me. Where before I had wanted nothing more than some time alone; now I almost ached for company. For anything that could remind me that I was not, in fact, alone.

But that was not to be my fate.

I figured that this was his intent. To use psychological means to break me down, when all of the physical methods had failed. And, with blood and bruises coating every visible inch of my skin as I reclined in the position that had become my mainstay; I felt myself slowly…ever so slowly…beginning to give up.

"_Have fun in here, sunshine. Maybe some solitude can do what I never could."_

Mark's parting words echoed in my mind, over and over; like some mantra that sought nothing but ruin. I knew that my ability to hold out…to keep from betraying Carter…was dwindling. And now, isolated and bedraggled as I was; it was all I could do to prevent darkness of another sort from claiming me for its own. I wanted nothing more than to disappear from all of this. But I was afraid that, should Mark return and find me asleep; he would be able to elicit what he wanted from me before the fog of exhaustion could clear.

I could not afford this moment of weakness. I had to keep fighting. Even though I didn't want to anymore.

Dragging my head up off of the surface it was resting upon; I forced myself to look about the room, the eye that hadn't been forced shut by Mark's blows searching for anything that might be of use to me, if only I could muster the strength to get myself off of this bed. Because my shoulder and opposite hand were as good as useless, one of the other men under Mark's influence had loosened the bindings around my feet; and unchained my hands…so if I were to suddenly swing myself off of the table, assuming in my state that I could keep my balance…

I may be able to get out.

Cringing internally against the thought of how much pain I was about to endure; I moved first one, and then the other leg slowly…carefully…gritting my teeth as my nerve endings roared to life with my subtle movements. It was rather easier than I had expected to get my feet free of the straps that once held them to the metal surface. But I was still forced to drop my head back against the table; air leaving my lungs in a whoosh as I fought against the sudden exhaustion that stole over me from what was only a simple movement. Turning my head over to the side, I swallowed; casting my eyes over the surface of the table beside me, a smirk flickering at my mouth as I caught sight of what I was looking for.

The wood of the baseball bat that had battered relentlessly at my legs and torso rested just within reach, if I could get myself into a seated position. And though a part of me knew that it would hurt like hell to do it; I recognized the possibility of using it as a sort of cane to rest my weight on when I tried to make for the door.

Marshelling whatever strength I had left, I inhaled deeply; setting my teeth to prevent myself from crying out as I lurched forward until I was fully seated. Pain exploded in my midsection, as I had expected it to from the sudden movement; and I whimpered slightly, tears coming unbidden to my eyes as I forced my aching body to permit me to swing my legs over the edge of the table.

Once I had succeeded, I permitted myself another resting period; gritting my teeth as wave after wave of what could only be described as white hot flames smashed against my body, doing their best to force me back onto the table in an effort to make them dull. To the best of my ability, I coaxed my lungs into a somewhat steady rate of breathing; taking deep, slow breaths as I kept my eyes shut and turned my attention outside of the pain. It was difficult, to say the least. But after what seemed like ages, I won out against that which was doing its best to flatten me; opening my eyes as best I could as my ears honed in on an unexpected sound.

Footsteps outside my door. _Again_.

Something brought it to my recognition that these were not the steps of Mark Snow, however…and something stranger still rendered me motionless as the sound of the door creaking open reached me; my body held taught…tense…as whoever it was stepped silently inside. Wincing as I slowly turned my head to see whoever it was; I found my jaw dropping as my stomach dropped to the floor.

_Reese._

I caught his eyes widening as they took me in; roving over my body and leaving no secret to how awful I must have appeared. Something in them seemed to exhibit the faintest hints of pity as they remained locked on my still frame…but that was soon replaced by an almost cold hue, as though he had blocked all emotion from entering into his thought process as he spoke softly.

"You."

The single word held no note of accusation…no hatred. Nothing. It was empty. As cold as someone left for dead long ago. And for some unspeakable reason, the emptiness in his tone at discovering my location was the last insult I could take.

Acting on pure instinct, I threw my feet down on the ground beside me; stumbling in my weakness and colliding with the side of the table nearby. Before I even had a chance to think about how my attempt at stopping my descent to the ground; I had thrown my hand out in an attempt to catch my fall, my broken fingers not doing any good as I grappled blindly for a foothold. What shocked me more than the pain at the encounter of my hand with the table, though, was that in an instant, strong arms had looped themselves underneath my own; guiding me slowly to the ground before relinquishing me completely.

Blinking up at him as I tried, half-heartedly, to regain my bearings; I shrunk as far away from him as I could manage, my voice a low rasp as I spoke.

"So did they send you in to kill me? One last laugh for Mark? Karma?"

For his part, Reese looked completely at a loss for how to respond to my inquiry; his blue-green eyes locked on my face, scrutinizing every bump…every cut, and trace of blood. In those eyes existed a myriad of emotions in that moment; and half in an effort to prevent those emotions from making me let my guard down, I spoke up again, a harsh cough escaping before I said:

"Go ahead then. Do it."

"Do what?" Reese asked; his tone light in spite of our current situation. I couldn't tell whether it came from a true detachment from what had happened to me…what he could so clearly see without even really trying…or if it came from more of an acute curiosity as to my motives. What I did see, though, was his hand once again reaching out to me; as though he wanted to help me back up to where I had been before, and so I shook my head more violently than I really should have as I answered him.

"Do what you came here for" I croaked; a half smile making its way to my lips as I watched his lips tighten down to a thin line "End this now. Get revenge for what I did to you."

"What did you do to me?"

Narrowing my eyes as I looked at him, I attempted to reason my way around his question; a huff leaving me as I came to the inevitable conclusion that he had me stumped. Why on earth would he be asking _me_ what had happened that night; when he was the one who almost paid the ultimate price? Was he trying to trick me? Or did he just want the pleasure of hearing me admit to my wrongdoings before he ended my life?

"I don't…I don't follow" I said then; biting my lip as an unexpected stab of pain rocketed through my abdomen.

"The question is simple" Reese replied; leaning back on the heels of his feet as he continued watching me carefully "What, exactly, do you think you've done?"

An almost hysterical laugh tore past my lips as I registered that he seemed to be baiting me; my tongue darting out to wet my chapped lower lip as I turned my gaze up at him once again. Pure stubbornness had won out over my desire to be rational by now; so I returned the favor, leveling a shrewd glance his way as I countered:

"Did you forget, John? Did you forget how I was a part of the team whose sole mission was to take you down; no questions asked?"

I thought I could see his eyes darken then, at my words; and it was all I could do to rein in the overwhelming desire I felt to just…pass out, our debate having done its best to wear at my remaining energy, as I went on "I think you do remember. And I think you would like nothing more, in this moment…than to kill the woman who almost ended your life."

Jaw muscle clenching, Reese did nothing for a moment besides stare at me; his eyes turning stormy as I gave him my best attempt at a smirk of satisfaction. I had him. I had him backed into a corner; torn between whatever good was left in him that would balk at taking a life, and that darker nature he possessed that wouldn't object to taking out his revenge. Perhaps this had been the way it was supposed to be all along. Maybe the dreams of the figure swooping in to save me was really an image of Reese. My angel of death, come to give me this one last favor.

God I only hoped so.

Startling me out of my thoughts, I registered Reese moving to stand and walk away from me; almost succumbing to the urge to beg him to return, until I saw him fish something out of his pocket. A needle and syringe…

_Yes._

Stooping back down to rest level with me, I thought I could detect a shimmer of pity in the man's eyes as he slowly…almost gently…drew my arm up so that he could see it; the tip of the needle entering my battered skin as I closed my eyes, an almost peaceful smile taking over my features as I heard his final words.

"Sleep tight, Natalya."

…

**Howdy there! A bit of a smaller delay between the last chapter and this one, if I do say so! A fact that, I must admit, has me feeling a bit proud. **

**But on to more pressing matters…namely this chapter! I wanted, once again, to sort of give an image of how bad off Natalya was without directly going into the nitty gritty of the torture (in part because I was afraid I'd make it hokey and in part because I just couldn't bear to make you guys read the full out details). So I hope you gained enough of an image without all the gore…and I certainly hope you find her interaction both with her own thoughts, and Reese in person, adequate.**

**That being said, as always, I welcome your thoughts and opinions on this chapter; whatever they may be! I thank you all for reading…and I really can't wait to see what you think!**

**Until next time…**

**MJR**


	12. Distant Reminder

Withdrawing the needle from the prisoner's arm, Reese tossed the device aside; shifting her in his arms so that she wouldn't knock her head against the cold concrete floor as he slowly rested her on the ground. Amazement filled him at how seemingly strong she had seemed in the brief moments of talking with her. Strong enough to beg for her own death…and yet beneath it all, showing a kind of weakness that was enough to make his heart wrench. Truth be told, she had reminded him of himself in that moment when she had looked at him; convinced he would actually give her what she wanted. Convinced he would let her slip into death. And that bothered him. More than it probably should have.

But the fact remained that she was just a body. Actually, less than that. The body of a woman who had tried to kill him. Or at least, so it looked. She shouldn't matter to him. He should be able to just leave her here; without feeling any remorse whatsoever. So why was he fighting back disgust at _himself_ as he allowed her body to sag, limply to the floor; and prepared to leave?

If he left her now, John knew that she didn't stand much of a chance of survival. She would either die of her injuries…which were quite severe, from the looks of it; or Snow and his cronies would exterminate all evidence of her existence. But the thing that was perhaps the most confusing was why this woman was even alive to begin with. Reese knew Snow wasn't above tormenting and killing those who stood in his way, or became loose ends. He knew that the man he had once called friend would not hesitate to eliminate any possible threat to his end-game.

So why wasn't the woman he had stumbled upon dead already? Clearly, given the state of her body, she had long outlived her usefulness. And it wasn't like his old compatriots in the CIA to leave a loose end hanging…

What did she know?

Stopping himself halfway to the door; Reese turned around, looking once again at the beaten young woman before him. The drug he had given her to serve as a sedative would keep her out for a number of hours. But would it be enough to keep her unconscious if Mark decided to end it all. To throw her in the prison crematorium? Regardless of how he felt about the girl, it pained him to envision her being cognoscente enough to realize that she was being burned alive. So with gritted teeth, Reese turned quickly; walking back to the woman and scooping her up in his arms as he scanned the room for anything he could use to get her out of this place. Simply walking down the hall with her was certain to attract attention…and the ex-op found himself letting out a small huff of amusement as his eyes fell upon a wheelchair folded up in the corner of the room.

Setting the woman…_Natalya_…down on the surface she had previously been occupying, Reese stepped around miscellaneous objects that were strewn across the floor; grabbing hold of the chair and yanking it open as he made his way back to the girl. Lifting her once again, he ignored how small…fragile…she felt as he settled her down into the chair; turning the device around and pushing it towards the door and out into the hallway. He knew that he only had a matter of time before someone was back for her…knew that, if he wanted to get her out of this, he had to move quickly. And above all else, he knew…

Finch was _not _going to like this.

…

**Hello! I kind of switched things up here, as you can see. Went for Reese's POV instead of Natalya's. How'd you like them apples? Lol. Anyway I realize that this is rather short. But there's a reason behind it, I promise! I intended it to be a sort of Segway between what has happened up until this point, and the next portion of Natalya's tale. So hopefully it does as it was meant to! All credit for the idea goes to DanAlaya! I had never even thought of something like this until she PM-ed me! So thank you!**

**Next I'd like to take a moment to ask if there is any desire for this story to continue. Honestly I'm fine with it either way, so if it's not as exciting as I have deluded myself into thinking, I won't be offended (wink). But as it doesn't seem to be getting that much feedback; I'd hate to waste everyone's time by publishing something that wasn't interesting. Not that I'm begging for reviews (Ok…ok…maybe I am, lol) but some gauge of your interest would be very much appreciated!**

**As always, thank you all for reading! Hopefully you like what you see!**

**Until next time**

**MJR**


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